What Matters Most
by jengwilson
Summary: The President's sudden stance on Cuba puts more than Florida's electoral votes in danger. JoshDonna. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**What Matters Most **

**Summary: The President's stance with Cuba brings about an unexpected situation. Post-ep for Ninety Miles Away.**

**Author's Notes: When I saw "90 Miles Away" and Donna and Toby were on the phone and they couldn't hear each other, this fic jumped out of the screen and said, 'Jen, write me.' So if you hate it, blame the television I was watching :) This is an 18 chapter fic that's fairly angsty and takes liberties in developing both Matt and Helen Santos far more than the show has cared to do so far. (Especially Helen). It's not my typical humor fic. Let me repeat that; it's NOT my typical humor fic. **

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

Josh's phone rang and he looked at the caller id. Toby again. They'd spoken the day before, kind of. He took a deep breath and answered. "Toby," he yelled over the crowd.

"We're still not talking."

"Yet my phone keeps ringing." He kept the phone close to his ear and stepped inside the small pavilion at Gwen Cherry Park that was being used as the headquarters for the day's rally. It was barely the size of his living room, but still the two candidates had staked out their own sides, Russell's staff taking over the side with the kitchenette and several picnic tables, Santos' staff taking over the side with the restroom and two picnic tables. The noise quieted down just a little, but it was enough to hear.

"He's doing an address in ten minutes."

"I know," he said, still shouting a little. "He talked to the Congressman. He couldn't have waited a week?" The noise volume rose a little as the door opened and a Russell volunteer walked in and rushed by him.

"Josh, look around you. What do you think all the noise is for? They already know."

Josh sighed. "Yeah."

"Anyway, I just wanted to give you a heads up on when. I'm calling Donna too."

"She's here somewhere, but Russell's already on stage."

They were doing four of these in Florida. Not debates, just both of them taking their turn speaking. They were Josh's idea once Hoynes became a mute point. 'We put you both up there to say what you're going to do and what you believe in. Let people get a good look at both of you so they can make an informed decision.' That's what he'd said when he pitched the idea to Santos, who'd loved it immediately. Pitching it to Will and Donna didn't go quite as smoothly.

Josh knew Will was smart enough to know that side by side, Santos would kick Russell's ass, like he had in the debates. To his face, however, he'd never admit defeat. Instead, he went with the 'why give credit to your candidate by being seen with him' excuse. Josh had simply rolled his eyes; Santos had won California, he didn't need Russell to look like a real candidate, and one glance at Donna told him she agreed. Their relationship might have been strained recently, but Donna knew Josh well enough to never count him out.

Even now, he wasn't sure what made them change their mind. Maybe it was the belief that they could fill him with enough good things to say up there, maybe it was the fear that Josh would pull another chicken stunt, but Josh suspected it was the even greater fear that the Congressman would buy himself another minute of television.

No matter, three days after going to them, they'd come back with an offer and the details had been worked out soon after. In Miami and Tampa, Russell would go on stage first. In Jacksonville and Pensacola, Santos would. The idea, of course, being that if they took turns, neither would bash the other on stage. Russell would anyway, Josh was sure. Still, he thought it was worth it and the Congressman agreed.

"He went on, knowing this was coming?"

"I think he's planning on being done before the President goes on the air so he doesn't have to comment on it."

"Spineless."

"Yeah."

"What's Santos going to say?"

Josh looked over at the congressman in the corner, his wife adjusting his tie and scowling at him, and his mind drifted for just a second to Donna. Make that a bowtie and it could've been them. Was them a year ago. Shaking the thought out of his head, he turned his attention back to Toby. "That it's obvious the current policy isn't working and although he hasn't been privy to the talks, the President believes the situation is promising and at this point they need to try anything they can. It's pretty much going to kill us here."

"At least he's not chickening out."

"Compliments for my guy, Toby?"

Toby ignored the question. "Maybe you'll luck out. If they're at the rally, they can't hear the address."

"Somehow I think they'll find out about it." Somehow they always did.

"Yeah."

"Listen, I gotta go. We're almost up. I'll…not talk to you soon." He disconnected and looked at his phone. That didn't go so bad. Yes, the Castro thing was a nightmare, but talking to Toby hadn't gone bad. It appeared they were going to be typical men and just ignore the fight, hoping things would eventually get back to normal. And knowing the two of them as he did, they probably would.

He opened the door and walked back outside where he could barely hear Russell rambling on about the importance of higher education over the sounds of the crowd. He peeked around the side of the makeshift stage with the podium on it to the crowd. It was even louder without the barrier of the drapes he was standing behind. He glanced around at the signs. "CASTRO MUDERS," "FREE CUBA," "CASTRO IS NOT OUR FRIEND," and the most popular, "KILL CASTRO." He glanced back to Russell on stage and for a brief moment he almost felt sorry for him. He was like a sitting duck up there.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Donna answer her cell and then walk off the stage, and he glanced back behind the curtain as she continued walking off to the right side of the pavilion, away from the buses and the staff. He wondered briefly if she'd be able to hear Toby any better than he had.

He stood behind the dark blue curtain and thought maybe he was at a heavy metal concert instead of a presidential rally. It was about time, he thought with a smile, that the American public was as excited about the state of their country as they were a Metalica concert. Then he cringed at the thought that the only heavy metal band he could think of was Metalica. He was getting old.

Congressman Santos came out of the pavilion and stood next to him. "Russell's got 'em riled up," he yelled over the crowd, although Josh barely heard him.

Josh rolled his eyes. Russell couldn't rile up a crowd of boy scouts, much less a crowd of voters. Santos laughed at him. "Don't worry Josh. It's just a speech," he yelled again, patting him on the shoulder.

They listened as Russell began his closing. Will stood only five feet from them and Josh nodded to him. No doubt he was mad they'd accepted Josh's offer, but how was Josh supposed to know this was going to happen? He was hardly privy to anything going on in the White House these days. In fact, if anyone should've known, it's Will. He certainly had more access than Josh did at the moment, a fact Josh pretended didn't piss him off.

Russell finished to very little applause and walked behind the curtain. Josh could see him yelling something to Will, but couldn't hear what they were saying as the crowd started chanting 'Free Cuba' over and over. The announcer looked at the congressman who gave him a thumbs up and then stepped onto the other side of the curtain to announce him, but the chanting got even louder and Josh wondered if they'd even be able to hear Santos speak.

Santos shouted something to Josh, but he couldn't make it out. He leaned in closer, and then felt something. A bump almost. And then another; stronger this time. And then the stage was moving underneath them and people were screaming and the chanting was even louder and suddenly Josh was trying to block out the sounds of sirens in his head.

Santos lost his balance and Josh reached out and grabbed him by instinct. He looked to his right and saw that the Vice-President was already being pulled from the falling stage and ushered off by the secret service, Will in tow.

They made it to the side of the stage as there was another large hit, this time knocking both he and the congressman off their feet and onto the cement below. A metal rod that had been holding the curtain in place fell on top of them, covering them both with dark blue fabric, and it took a few seconds for them to get up and out of it. The congressman yelled something to Josh again, but he couldn't hear him, and he looked past the congressman's shoulder at the crowd that was storming and shaking the stage, or what was left of it, still chanting, screaming really. Sweat trickled from his nose and forehead and he wiped his face with the back of his hand and wiped his hand on his pants, then he grabbed the congressman by the shoulder and pulled him towards the pavilion. Just as he opened the door to push him inside, he saw the Vice-President's bus pulling away from the curb to the left of the building.

When they were inside, the congressman rushed to his wife, gripping her dearly. "You need to leave, Congressman," he yelled to them. Santos continued holding his wife, eyes closed, the noise deafening. Again Josh yelled, "You need to leave Congressman." It had been about two minutes since the riot started. Time was still on their side, but wouldn't be for long.

The congressman opened his eyes, looking at Josh, and nodded. He took his wife's hand and they moved back to the door. Josh wondered if he was insane as he took a deep breath and opened if for better or worse.

He looked towards the minivan they'd rented, which had been parked directly behind the Vice-President's campaign bus. The van was only about thirty feet away, but a huge crowd was now between them and it, and fights had begun to break out in the crowd. He watched, frozen for a second, as two men brutally beat each other with fists.

He shook himself out of it and looked back in the pavilion. Behind the congressman and Helen stood Ronna and Ned. "You've got to go now," he screamed. "Just run and leave the second you're in the van.

Santos nodded. "Lead the way," he screamed.

Josh shook his head. "I've got to get Donna!"

"What?"

"Donna! She…. Just go. I'll meet you later."

Santos reached around him and slammed the door shut. "What?"

"Donna," he said, still yelling, but not as loud with the door closed. "She went off the other way. There's no way she's with Russell. I've got to get her."

"Josh, we need to go. Now."

"I agree," he yelled again. "Go."

"You need to come with us."

He shook his head again. "I can't do that, Sir."

"Josh…." His words trailed off as Josh opened the door again and shoved the Congressman out of it. He looked at Josh one last time, then put his arm around Helen and took off running for the minivan, Ned and Ronna behind them. Josh watched as they ran, and once they were all inside, he turned and ran the other way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Loud. She couldn't believe how loud it was. Two campaigns and countless public appearances and she'd never heard anything so loud. She wondered if Rosslyn was this loud, but she quickly pushed the thought out of her head. She hated going there.

She stood on the side of the stage and watched the Vice-President give a speech no one wanted to hear. Please, she thought. Just say it. I agree with the President. I disagree with the President. I'm too damn stupid to understand the situation. Say something. No one cares about education right now.

She noticed Josh out of the corner of her eye and barely had time to glare at him for putting them in this situation before her phone rang. Not that it was Josh's fault. This had been set up two weeks ago. No one knew the President was going to go Cuba crazy a week before the Florida primary. Who knew whose side the President was on these days. It was like he wanted the republicans to win.

She looked at the caller id. Toby. She'd spoken with him the day before. Well, she'd tried. She couldn't hear a thing he said and had finally lost him, and it hadn't been nearly as loud yesterday as it was today. She hit talk and screamed into the phone. "Toby, I'm going to find someplace quieter. I'll call you right back. Stay by your phone." Then she turned and looked around. She could go inside the pavilion, that might be quieter. But she was sure the Congressman was in there trying to get ready for his speech. His speech that she had a feeling would include Cuba. She didn't want to get in the way. And, a truth she'd only tell herself, she didn't want to get to know him anymore than she already had. She didn't want any more knowledge of what Josh saw in him. The 'you're on the wrong campaign' line still haunted her when she least expected it, and she didn't want anymore proof that he was right. She was already contemplating who to vote for, and she worked for one of the candidates.

She looked off to the side. About 150 feet or so away was a building with restrooms. Maybe it would be quieter in there. As quickly as she had the thought she laughed to herself. Like she knew what 150 feet was. She took one last glance back at the Vice-President before climbing the four steps down off the make-shift stage and heading off towards the bathrooms.

Making her way through the large crowd was harder than expected. A polite 'excuse me' couldn't be heard over the yelling and the sounds of the Vice-President, so she found herself just trying to squeeze through people. A man in a white t-shirt caught her eye and must've recognized her from the side of the stage, because he stopped her by putting his hand on her shoulder and screamed, "When he will speak concerning Cuba?" with a heavy Cuban accent.

Certainly not until we're out of Miami, she thought. "It's coming up," she screamed back and he let her pass. She kept her head down as she moved after that, hoping no one else would stop her. She hated lying, but she wasn't about to stand in a crowd that large and tell them that the candidate, her candidate, was too much of a coward to speak about the issues.

The further from the stage she got, the less people there were to squeeze through, and a few minutes later she reached the small building and went inside the restroom. The first thing she noticed was the smell. It made her think of Girl Scout camp and the greenies. Of all the capers, cleaning the greenies was her least favorite. Now she remembered why.

The second thing she noticed was the sound, or lack there of. The building must've been used as a tornado shelter, because it was well insulated. She took a deep breath through her mouth and leaned against the door for just a minute, reveling in the silence. Her ears were ringing and her head was pounding from all the screaming and the Vice-President's voice through the microphone, not to mention the high school band that had played before the rally began.

She reached for her cell phone again and called Toby. While it rang, she looked around the small restroom. Two wooden stalls with doors that hung wide open, an old sink with a broken faucet and mold in the basin, a mirror that was cracked in several places, and an empty paper towel dispenser. The walls were cement and were painted a blue-green color that was old and faded. There was a modest amount of graffiti on the wall, mostly "Becky loves Brian" and similar sentiments. She thought briefly of the first and only time she'd written something like that on a bathroom stall, her sophomore year of high school. "Donnatella loves Freddy." Unfortunately, she hadn't been smart enough to use 'Donna,' so she'd been called to the Principal's office for vandalism and had to spend the next Saturday with a group of delinquents painting the restrooms. The plus side was that news got back to Freddy and he'd asked her out.

"Donna?"

"Toby, hi," she said cheerfully, thankful she didn't have to yell.

"I can hear you."

"Yeah. I found a quiet place. What's up?"

"I wanted to give you a heads up. The President's giving an address about Cuba in… five minutes."

"Yeah, Will called Margaret earlier and found out when it was. You should tell Josh though. Santos is scheduled to go on stage any second now."

"I just talked to him."

"Yeah?" She was glad to hear it. She'd heard about the fight. Margaret had mentioned it the night of the fundraiser. It felt odd to her not to already know about it, but that was what she'd wanted. Distance from Josh. Still, without her, without Sam, without the support of the administration, and now without Toby, she knew Josh must've felt so alone. Part of her wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him it'd be ok.

"Yeah," he said simply. She understood it as, 'we'll be ok. Just give us time,' and she smiled.

"How's CJ? I didn't get to talk to her much at the fundraiser. I think she was afraid I'd get too close to the President."

"She's fine. We've been pretty impressed with the way you've been handling the press with Russell. Wish we'd thought of that last summer."

"Thanks. It's still a little scary up there."

"Yeah, I…" he trailed off.

"Toby?"

"Donna, are you alright?" he asked in a panicked voice.

"Yeah, why? Is everything ok?"

"Where are you Donna?"

"In the restroom, why?"

"Something's happening there."

"What?"

"Something's happening. Russell finished and the announcer walked on stage and then…"

"And then what?" she asked in an equally panicked voice.

"I don't know. This damn television's too small. The announcer just fell. People are screaming. The stage looks like it's…falling apart."

She went to the door and opened it. The noise was even louder than before and they were chanting something…free Cuba. She couldn't see the stage through all the people, but she could see the top of the blue curtain serving as the backdrop, and as she looked at it, it fell out of her sight. "Josh…"

"What? I can't hear you Donna!"

"Josh," she yelled, trying to talk to him through the noise. "I just saw him on stage a few minutes ago! I've got to go!"

"No! Donna, no! If you're not in that crowd, do not go back into it."

"I've got to get Josh!"

"Donna, get someplace safe! Find Russell, the secret service will be with him! Do not go into that crowd! Josh will be fine. He'll get Santos out of there!"

"I gotta go Toby!"

"Donna!" he yelled again, but she'd already hung up.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

Josh had gone all of about five feet when he hit a wall of people. He tried to push his way through to no avail. They were coming his way and he was being pushed along with them. Finally, he turned back around and went inside the pavilion to call Donna. If he at least knew which way to go, maybe it would help. As he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, however, he wondered if he'd even be able to hear her, and if she'd be able to hear him.

He hit '1' followed by talk. He hadn't called her in six weeks, but still, he refused to replace her on his speed dial. Just as it started ringing, he got an incoming call. He glanced at the number. It was her, calling him. He clicked over. "Donna!" he yelled.

He got no answer. "Donna!" he yelled again. Still silence.

He clicked back over to the other line, where her voice mail had picked up. Damn it. He hit end and called her again. After one ring, she picked up in a panicked voice. "Josh?"

"Donna!" He held the phone as close to his ear as possible while plugging his other ear with his finger.

"Josh, are you alright?"

"Yeah. Where are you? Are you ok?"

She sighed heavily. "I'm fine. The stage… and you were on it. I thought…"

"I'm fine," he yelled. "I'm looking for you though. Where are you?"

"I'm alright. Get Santos out of here Josh. Get him out now."

"He's gone. Tell me where the hell you are Donna!"

"I'm in the restrooms."

"What restrooms? Where?"

"The building about… I don't know… 75 yards from the stage. I was talking to Toby."

"Is anyone around there?"

She opened the door again and looked out. The noise suddenly got deafening to Josh and bile rose to his throat as he thought she was in danger. Then the noise disappeared completely. "No. The crowd's over by the pavilion. It looks really bad over there. Where are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you out by the buses?"

"Stay there Donna. Does that door lock?" He was nearly hysterical at keeping her safe. He fought the site of her in a hospital bed, the site of her blood on a hospital floor, the word 'scared' written in her distinctive handwriting on a pad of paper.

"Where are you Josh?" she asked sternly.

"Does the fucking door lock, Donna?" he screamed again.

She locked the deadbolt. "Yes. Now where the hell are you?" she screamed just as loud.

He took a deep breath. She wasn't going to like this. "I'm in the pavilion."

"Josh…" He could hear the fear in her voice and he berated himself both for telling her where he was and for being relieved to hear concern in her voice.

"I'm fine Donna. Listen to me. Lock the door. Do NOT go outside. Do you understand me? Do NOT go outside. I'm coming to get you."

"I can take care of myself Josh. You've got to leave."

"Damn it Donna. Call me a chauvinist later. I'm getting you out of there. Lock yourself in the damn bathroom," he yelled and hung up, giving her no choice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Toby hung up after Donna disconnected and took off running down the hallway towards to oval office. He needed to stop the President from going on the air. The press would have a field day with this. He could already picture the press conference. 'Peace talks are going great folks. On a side note, the secret service just ripped the Vice-President out of a riot in Miami. Any questions.' This had nightmare written all over it.

He came to a stop in front of Debbie's desk. "Has he gone on yet?" he asked a little out of breath.

"He's on now."

"Tell me that's a joke, Debbie."

"It's not a joke. He knows how to address the nation. He doesn't need you babysitting him Toby."

"He doesn't… I'm the damn Communications Director," he shouted, throwing a pen against the wall. What the hell was going on in this place lately?

Debbie looked up at him with an evil eye and he took a deep calming breath. "Who's in there with him?"

"CJ and Annabeth."

"Call Leo and Cliff. I need them here the second he's off the air."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She'd opened the door twice to leave, shutting it and locking it both times while screaming obsenities associated with his name. Damn him. Damn him for hanging up on her. She needed to get to him. Everything would be ok if she could just get to him. But now, if she left, he wouldn't know how to get to her. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hug him or hit him.

But as she looked outside once again, she didn't know how she'd get to him even if she did try. The area between her and Josh was completely packed with people. From where she stood, she could see fist fights, people climbing over each other, men sitting on other men's shoulders waving signs and shouting. The entire thing was absolutely insane. She shuddered when she saw a man not thirty feet away from her fighting another man with a switchblade in his hand, and she quickly went back inside and locked the door again.

And there was no longer a question of whom she'd vote for. She didn't care that his wife was there. That he was probably so worried about her that they got in the car and left without a second thought as to who was still there. He left Josh. He got in a fucking car and left Josh, the man who'd left everything and risked it all to make him the President. He left Josh. Her Josh, and for that, there would be no voting for him.

Now he was stuck. Stuck in that pathetic excuse for a building while hundreds if not a few thousand people were rioting outside. Damn Russell. Damn him for being such a coward. For not speaking about the issue that so desperately needed addressed. He hadn't said a thing about it and when he'd left the stage, they'd gotten sick of waiting and had attacked. And now Josh was in danger and it was all Bingo Bob's fucking fault. No, he wouldn't be getting her vote either. She was back to Vinick.

And she might just kill Will. Just throttle him. He was the one. The brain behind Russell. 'Don't say anything about it. Pretend like you don't know anything about the address. Let Santos take the fall for it here. We'll talk about it in Tampa. Things will have calmed down by Tampa. You don't want to be part of it here. Not here. Anywhere but here.' That bastard was probably sitting safely on the bus right now surrounded by secret service. Had they even noticed she wasn't with them?

She pulled her cell from her pocket. She didn't even have her purse, damn it. It was in the fucking pavilion along with the love of her life who had just refused to let her help him. Suddenly, she knew. She wanted to hug him and then hit him. Several times.

"Donna?" Toby asked in a rushed voice.

"Toby, I need your help."

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, but…" tears stung her eyes as she tried to speak. Saying it out loud was making it far too real.

"What Donna?"

"It's Josh," she said, wiping angrily at her eyes.

"What about Josh? Is he ok?"

"No he's not ok!" she screamed. "He's stuck in that building behind the stage. That fucking congressman just left him. Just left him like…bait. Toby, the crowd…"

"Calm down Donna. You've got to calm down."

"No! Don't tell me to calm down. He's sitting in a decrepit building with a wooden door that has a gap at the bottom of it. They'll break through Toby. They'll get to him and…"

"I'm sure the police are on their way Donna."

"You've got to call someone! Tell them where he is! Tell them they have to get to him! They have to get to him first. They have to get him out of there!"

"Donna…"

"You have to Toby."

"Ok. Ok. I will. I'll call them right now. We're gonna get both of you out of this Donna, but you stay where you are. Do you understand me? Don't go into that crowd Donna."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

He looked around the pavilion. He needed to know how far she was from him. How far she was from the crowd. How far she was from danger. He was breathing heavily and his hands were shaking. Sweat continued trickling down from his forehead and he wiped his face with the back of his hand again then wiped his hand on his pants leg. Then he looked at his watch. It'd been about five minutes. It felt like this started an hour ago, but it had only been five minutes. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but for some reason he felt the need to keep track.

He noticed a small window very high up, near the ceiling that looked out the way he thought Donna was. Maybe if he could get up there… maybe he could get out. Maybe the crowd wasn't that far to the side of the building. Or maybe he could at least get a look at the building Donna was in. See if she was in danger. See how far he had to go to get to her.

He pulled a picnic table over to the wall and climbed up on it, but he still couldn't reach the window. Damn it, he thought. Why was it easier to get to her in Germany than it was to get to her across a park? He needed help.

"Josh?" The congressman yelled as he answered the phone.

"Congressman!" he screamed into the phone. The noise was getting worse and worse. He could hear people on the stage, shouting through the microphone. Always the same thing, 'free Cuba' over and over.

"Where are you Josh?"

"The pavilion. I can't get through the crowd."

"Shit. You should've come with us. The pavilion's completely surrounded. We just passed behind it."

"You did?" he asked with hope in his voice. "There's a building off to the side, the side opposite where we were parked. Did you happen to notice that building?"

"Yeah, we're passing it now."

"And what's the crowd like there?"

"There isn't one. The crowd starts about 20, 30 feet from there. There are some people fighting nearby, but not many."

"Oh thank God. Sir…"

"That's where your chicken fighter is?"

"Yes. She's locked in the women's restroom."

"We're pulling in there now."

"Thank you, Sir."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She picked up the phone on the first ring. "Josh! Tell me you're ok!"

"I'm fine. I'm more worried about you!" he yelled.

"Me? I told you I'm fine." She could barely hear him over the noise, and it scared her because it was all coming from his end. That's how close he was to the crowd.

"Matt's pulling up there right now," he continued yelling.

"What?"

"The congressman. He's coming to get you."

"No!"

"What?"

"No. I'm not going anywhere with him. I'm coming after you!"

"I'm not going to fight with you about this again. He's pulling up to the building. Get in the van when he gets there, Donnatella."

"And then we'll come get you?"

"No. Then you'll get the hell away from this park!" he screamed. Why didn't she understand? He had to get her to safety. He had to.

"No."

"Donna."

"I'm not leaving you here."

"Don't be stubborn!" There was a knock at the door and she could hear someone shouting her name.

"Don't be an ass!"

"Damn it Donna. I didn't sit in that room and make a thousand promises to any god who would listen just to lose you like this. Get in the fucking van!"

And suddenly she stopped. She stopped yelling and talking and breathing… "What?" she asked quietly.

"Please go, Donna," he said, still loudly, but not quite as loud. She could hear the desperation in his voice, and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. He was as desperate to keep her safe as she was to keep him safe. There'd be no talking him out of it. He wasn't going to do anything to get himself out of there until he knew she was ok.

She walked to the door slowly and unlocked it, keeping the phone pressed tightly to her ear. A man she'd never met but had seen with Josh was standing on the other side of it and he took her arm and pulled her the five feet or so to the opened side van door and then pushed her in. Once she was inside, he slid the door shut behind her and got into the passenger front passenger seat quickly. Without looking back at her or the pavilion, Matt Santos hit the gas and sped off down the small stone pathway.

"I'm in the van, Josh," she said, clutching the phone to her ear, tears falling down her face.

She could hear the sound of his breathing over the deafening noise in the background. "Thank You God," he sighed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

She was crying. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he drove down the gravel path from the restrooms back to the road. She didn't look at him, at anyone in the van. She just told Josh she was inside and sat with the phone against her ear as she looked out the window towards the pavilion. Why hadn't Josh told him he and the chicken fighter were together, he wondered?

"He wants to talk to you," she said with a flat voice, holding the phone up between the two front seats. He smiled at her in the rearview mirror and took the phone from her. She didn't smile back, he noticed. And she didn't wipe the tears from her eyes. She just stared back at him and watched as he spoke to Josh.

"Josh," he said loudly into the phone.

"Get her out of here. She's gonna try to get you to come back here and get me. Ignore her and get her the hell out of here," Josh shouted.

"Understood. You hold on tight, Josh. We're gonna send someone in there to get you out."

He disconnected and handed the phone back to Donna. She looked at him blankly and took it from him, cradling it between her hands, still crying, still letting the tears fall unapologetically and without embarrassment down her cheeks.

When they got back to the road, police were starting to arrive on the scene. Several were setting up roadblocks along the road, and he put the van in park and stepped out of it, looking for someone who looked remotely in charge.

"Excuse me," he yelled to one of the police officers. They were more than a hundred yards away now, and the noise was still insane.

"Sir, this area's blocked off. You need to get out of here."

"Yes, we're doing that now. But there's…"

"There's someone trapped in that pavilion," he heard Donna shout from behind him. The police officer looked from him to Donna.

He turned around. "Donna. Get in the car, I'll tell them."

"No!" she screamed hysterically. "You just left him there!" She turned back to the officer. "His name is Joshua Lyman and he's trapped in that building! Someone has to get him out of there, now!"

"Yes ma'am. We'll take care of it," the officer shouted to her. "But you need to get in the car and get out of here. This entire area's being blocked off."

"You need to send people in there," she screamed. "Call whoever's in charge. Tell them. Tell them he's in there. Tell them to get him out of there. They have to get him out of there!" The officer looked at Matt who nodded and took Donna by the shoulders, walking her towards the van.

"Come on Donna," he yelled over the noise.

"Let go of me," she screamed, and he held her tighter. Ned got out and helped him while she continued screaming. "His name is Josh Lyman! He's in the pavilion! You have to get him out of there! Josh Lyman! He works for the President, you have to get him out of there!" The officer just nodded at her and pulled out his walkie-talkie.

When they got back to the van, Donna pulled her arm roughly from him and got back inside. She picked her cell phone back up and looked at the display. It didn't show any missed calls, but still she turned to Helen and asked quietly, "Did he call?"

"No," she said, smiling slightly at Donna.

A police officer held the roadblock and let Matt turn onto the road away from the park and Donna looked vacantly out the window. "Where are we going?" Ronna asked.

"I'm taking the three of you back to the hotel. Ned and I will come back here and wait behind the barricades for Josh."

"I'm coming with you," Donna said quietly.

"No you're not. I'm sorry. I know you're upset, but Josh asked me to get you away from here and that's what I'm doing. Ned and I will bring him back."

She didn't turn from the window or show any emotion in her voice when she said, "You left him once, how am I supposed to know you won't just leave him again?"

"We didn't…" Helen started.

"Helen," he cut her off, shaking his head. "We'll bring him back Donna."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

"We have a situation," Toby said as he, Leo, and Cliff walked into the oval office.

"Thank you Toby, I thought it went rather well myself," said the President sarcastically.

"Actually, Sir. It didn't go well at all." Toby was pissed. Pissed that once again, he was being shut out. It was days like this he wished he'd left with Josh to find the next real thing. Of course, he thought, it was days like this Josh probably wished he was still here, being pushed around and ignored by CJ and the President. The President glared at him, but he really didn't care too much anymore. He was long past the point of doing all this for him.

"What is it Toby," CJ asked impatiently.

"A riot broke out at the rally in Miami."

She blinked and looked hard at him. "A riot?"

"Yes. Three minutes before he was scheduled to go on the air. Of course, he went on the air a minute and a half early, which prevented me from stopping him." He looked pointedly at CJ. They were trying to run this place alone these days, and this was just more proof that it wasn't working.

"And the rally was about…" Annabeth broke in.

He spun around to her. "What do you think it was about? It was about Cuba; about Castro. A riot broke out in Miami, the highest Cuban populated city in the country just as the President went on the air and talked about our improving relations with Cuba!" His voice started soft but quickly rose until he was shouting.

"Ok, calm down," Leo said. "It's bad, but it's been worse."

"Really," Toby said calmly. "Has it been? Josh and Donna are trapped there in two separate buildings. Russell left her, Santos left him and they can't get to each other. Has it been worse than that? I mean, I guess it has been since he was shot and she was blown to hell in Gaza, but never both of them on the same day, so I'm not really sure if it's been worse or not."

"Toby. That's enough," CJ said sternly.

"Yeah. They're not our problem anymore," he said in the same voice, looking straight at her.

"Point taken, Toby," the President said, shutting everyone up and causing them to shift and look at him. "Call the police in Miami. Make sure they know we're missing them. Use the White House card to get them out of there first priority."

"I already did."

"Fine. Then tell us what else we know."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

He disconnected from Matt and put his phone in his pocket, closing his eyes for a second, just thankful she was ok. Matt would get her out of there and she'd be fine. He took a deep breath and let a few tears of relief fall down his face. Donna was ok. It was going to be ok.

He opened his eyes and looked at his watch. Eight minutes. It had still only been eight minutes. He wondered how long it would take the police to get there and break the mess up. He looked at the door to the pavilion. It looked to be about a hundred years old and there was a big gap at the bottom, near the floor. The lock was old and rotting out. If anyone wanted in, that door wasn't going to keep them out for long. He sighed and pushed a picnic table up against it, then went to the kitchenette to look for something to use to… he didn't even know what.

The kitchenette proved useless. The white metal drawers and cupboards were empty except for one plastic cup. He reached over to the sink and turned the water on. Great, he thought. I can pour water on someone if they try to get in. Maybe they'll melt. And then he started wondering why no one had tried to get in. He shook his head clear, not wanting to tempt fate, and went into the small restroom.

He flipped on the light and looked around at the chipped tile and lopsided toilet, hoping the restroom Donna had been in was better than this one. In the metal cabinet under the sink he found a toilet brush and wondered when it had been used last. He stood up and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His eyes went wide and he looked down at his pants leg. It wasn't sweat after all. He grabbed some toilet paper and wiped his face. He'd deal with it later.

He went back into the main room and tried to wedge the handle of the toilet brush between the door handle and the wall. After a few unsuccessful tries, he started laughing sarcastically at himself. He had no survival skills whatsoever. He could solve the world deficit problem given the chance, but he couldn't keep a bunch of pissed-off Cuban Americans from breaking in a door and killing him. Then he looked at the door again and realized it opened inwards, the toilet brush wouldn't have helped anyway. Pathetic.

He put the toilet brush on the picnic table propped against the door, thinking better safe than sorry. That was the closest thing to a weapon he had. Then he started walking around the room. There were Russell flyers and other paraphernalia on the table next to the kitchenette and he flipped through them, scoffing at the complete stretching of the truth about the Vice-President's involvement with the current administration. He picked up the flyer and sat down; might as well get a little opposition research in while he waited for the cavalry.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She couldn't see the park anymore, but she continued looking out the window in that direction. The tears had mostly stopped, and the congressman's wife had discreetly handed her some tissues to wipe her nose with. She had mumbled a thank you, but then went back to watching out the window.

No one was talking in the van. She wanted to believe it was because they were afraid she'd run off and tell Russell everything she heard. She wanted to think that so she wouldn't have to think of them as people. Certainly not as good people who had helped her simply because Josh had asked them to. They couldn't be good people. Not if they left him. Not if they'd do that.

Matt Santos… not allowing her to go back to the park with him. She'd almost laughed at him when he said that; she had no intentions of asking his permission. If he wouldn't take her back, she'd catch a cab and figure out how to pay for it later. She'd tried to get out of the van at the first red light they'd come to, but he'd been watching her in the rearview mirror and hit the power locks just as she reached for the handle. She'd glared at him again and he'd offered her a small sympathetic smile. Bastard.

She still cradled her cell phone between her hands and when it rang, she hit talk without looking at the screen. "Josh?"

"Donna?"

"Will?"

"Hey, when we get out of this traffic nightmare, the Vice-President and I are getting on the bus. We need to talk about these other three speeches with Santos. The Vice-President wants to cancel; we need to talk about repercussions. Who's been working on publicizing them? You?"

"When you get on the bus," she deadpanned.

"You haven't noticed we're not there? That we're in the car with the secret service? We're stuffed in here like sardines, it's…"

She cut him off. "Josh is stuck in the pavilion at the park."

"Really?" he asked in a distracted voice. "Then maybe he'll want to cancel the speeches too."

Her voice held no emotion when she said, "You're a son of a bitch. I quit."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Helen tried not to stare at Donna as she spoke on the phone, but when the young woman announced that she quit, everyone including herself looked over at her. She smiled to herself. It was like watching the song "Stand By Your Man" come to life. She liked her. In fact, she liked her a lot.

She liked that Donna had tried to escape, that she had been clutching the phone in desperation, that she cried openly, not giving a shit who watched her, that she jumped out of the van and went ballistic in front of the police, that she gave evil, evil glares to her husband. Not that it was Matt's fault. Matt hadn't left him, but for whatever reason, this woman thought he did, and she was the unforgiving kind. Matt left her guy, and she was pissed. As Helen sat in the small van, no one talking, she looked at Donna. Yeah, she definitely liked her.

And she knew her husband. She knew that on the off-chance something did happen to Josh, he'd rather Donna hate him for leaving him there than hate herself because he stayed to save her and had gotten killed. She knew it and she loved him for it. Loved that he would put himself in the position he was in at that moment, getting looks of death and snide comments from Russell's apparent ex-press secretary.

What she didn't get was everyone's need to protect this woman. Clearly Josh loved her; and just as clearly she loved him. She thought it was odd he'd never mentioned her. Maybe he thought they'd be pissed that he was dating someone on the other side. They wouldn't have been, Josh was nothing if not dedicated to getting Matt into the White House, but she could certainly see why they'd want to keep it quiet.

But to protect her? First Josh and now Matt? Helen looked at her once again, and the woman she was looking at did not need protected. This woman was a lioness. Strength poured from her. Men might see tears as a weakness, but she knew better. Not fearing those tears made this woman even stronger. No, this woman didn't need protected. In fact, Helen was willing to bet money that this Donna woman would be back at that park before the day was over.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzz**

Something hit the door and he jerked his head from the crap he was reading, then jumped to his feet. Something else hit it and he saw the entire door bend inward. It wouldn't last long. He grabbed the toilet brush from the picnic table and stood in the doorway to the bathroom. That door was metal. If worse came to worse, he might be able to lock himself in there.

He looked at his watch. 14 minutes. Donna should be long gone by now, and the police should be there. Matt told him he'd get someone in there to get him out, but Josh knew it would take a while. They'd have to get through the crowd. The maddening, screaming crowd that invaded Josh's brain and wouldn't leave. It was still so loud.

The pounding on the door stopped, but Josh stood in the bathroom doorway for another minute just to be sure. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but all in all, he was out of the crowd, which was definitely good, and Donna was safe, which was what mattered most.

His phone started ringing just as there was another pounding on the door, so he shut himself inside the bathroom thinking it was best that Donna not hear that sound. It was actually a bit quieter with the door closed, and his aching head thanked him for the brief reprieve from the noise.

"Tell me you're away from the park."

"I'm fine. Are you doing ok?"

"That wasn't my question," he said sternly. If she was still at the park, he'd make sure to get out of this mess just so he could strangle her. "Where are you?"

She huffed into the phone. "On our way back to your hotel. Now answer mine please."

He relaxed a little more. "I'm bored," he whined.

He heard her sigh and he smiled. "Only you, Joshua."

He was quiet for a moment, just reveling in the sound of his full name. It had been too long since he'd heard that from her. Since they'd bantered. "Your purse is here."

"Joshua Lyman, do not snoop through my purse." Joshua again. He found himself actually smiling and could hear the smile in her voice as well. It made him feel amazingly free, which was ironic, he thought.

"Me? Never!"

She laughed that time but he could hear the tears behind it. She'd been crying. He hated it when she cried. It made him feel useless and helpless. He specifically hated it when she cried because of him, and sitting there in the decrepit bathroom, he wondered how many times she had cried because of him. He'd give anything to be able to erase every one.

"Hey, the noise is giving me a headache. You don't have any aspirin in there do you?" That wasn't the complete truth, but he didn't want to worry her.

"There's some Aleve in there. You may get that out, but you may not snoop through the rest of my purse in your state of boredom."

"Understood."

"We told the police where you are and Toby was going to make some phone calls. You just…" Her voice cracked and quivered and it broke his heart to hear her so worried. "Just… hang on a little longer."

"I'm just hanging out here. I'm fine," he said as nonchalantly as possible. "My room key's in the van. Wait for me and we'll have dinner tonight."

"Promise?" she whispered, and he was immediately grateful he could hear her.

He knew she couldn't see him, but he nodded anyway. "Promise."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

"Thank you officer. Please keep me posted." Toby hung up and looked around the oval office. Ron Butterfield and Mike Casper stood near the door, talking quietly. CJ was on her cell phone, Leo and the President were speaking quietly and Cliff and Annabeth sat on a couch looking out of place.

When CJ hung up, the President started the conversation. "What do you have, Ron?"

"At approximately 2:07, the Vice-President left the stage at the rally. The announcer, a local news anchor, went on stage to announce the Congressman, and just as he began to speak, the stage was rushed. We're not completely sure of a reason at this point, although it seems likely that the crowd was unpleasedthe Vice-President had chosen not to speak about the Cuban issue. The Vice-President was behind the stage at the time and secret service agents had him in a car and away from the site in 46 seconds. We don't believe it was a direct threat of his life."

"46 seconds?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good job, Ron. Mike?"

"Thank you Mr. President. The local police and FBI are on the scene. There are somewhere between a thousand and twelve hundred people rioting. They're working on penetrating the crowd from the outside going in, but they're considering smoke bombs. There are countless fistfights, several knife fights, and at least three dead so far. People are being trampled while trying to get up on the stage where they're screaming into the microphone. The basic message of the group is kill Castro and free Cuba."

"Why hadn't I thought of that?" the President mumbled.

"Smoke bombs? What about Josh? Is that building insulated well enough?" CJ asked.

"We don't know. They know about Josh but they can't get to him. The pavilion's completely surrounded."

"What about Donna?"

Toby cleared his throat. "Donna's safe. I was just speaking with the Miami police department. She was seen in a minivan with Congressman Santos screaming at the police to get Josh. He must've had the congressman get her out of there. I'm gonna call her and make sure she's ok, but the officer I spoke with said she was fine, just frantic about Josh."

"That sounds about right," CJ said quietly.

"I'm gonna have to brief the press."

"Don't mention Josh," Mike said. "If the crowd doesn't know he's in that building, it's best they're not told."

Toby nodded. "Do we know about the rest of the city?"

"There's some disturbance in areas that are highly Cuban populated, but the majority of the city's without incident so far. They've temporarily grounded planes from leaving Miami International, but they're expecting to open them up within the hour."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She hit end and looked at the phone in her shaking hand, taking deep breaths and trying not to cry again. He promised. He never broke promises to her.

"He's ok?" Matt asked quietly a minute later.

She scoffed and looked out the window. "He has a headache," she said quietly.

"I'm sure, he's definitely going to need stitches," Helen said, handing her another tissue.

Donna's head whipped around and her eyes nearly shot out of her head. "What?" she yelled.

Helen looked at her and then at Matt through the rearview mirror, who was shaking his head. She turned back to Donna and smiled slightly. "He cut his head. It didn't look too bad, but I'm pretty sure he's going to need stitches. He also has a bloody nose."

Donna couldn't breathe. She tried to ask what happened, but her voice gave out after "Wha…?"

"We fell off the stage," Matt said quietly.

She turned to look at him. "When?"

"We were standing on the stage and it collapsed. We were kind of tossed off. We hit the ground."

"And he…got hurt?" she asked with a shaky voice.

"Scratched up really," he said shrugging, trying to sound upbeat.

"And… you left him there anyway," she managed through her sobs.

"Donna, we didn't…"

"Helen," Matt said, cutting her off.

"Matthew," she said, glaring at him.

"That's between Josh and myself."

"She doesn't need protected. She needs the truth." She turned back to Donna. "He wouldn't come with us, Donna."

Donna's eyes grew large.

"We were leaving and…he wouldn't come with us," Ronna repeated.

"Why wouldn't he…" she stopped, knowing the answer already. Her lips started quivering and she slowly put her hand over her mouth and looked back at Matt.

"It's ok, Donna."

She shook her head and started crying harder. "No it's not."

"He'll survive, Donna," Helen said with a real smile this time. "You're not the first woman who was ever pissed off at him."

"But…"

"It's fine Donna," Matt said sincerely with a smile.

She looked at him for a minute and then nodded and tried to smile at him. "He's hurt?" she asked after several moments.

"It's not that bad."

"He stayed because of me?"

He paused for a second and then nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly.

A small smile spread across her face despite the tears. "Stubborn idiot," she whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

He'd stayed for her. What was it that made him like that? How could he barely speak to her for three months and then refuse to leave a riot because she was there? How could the same man who took her for granted day in and day out fly to another country to be there when she woke up? Didn't he know he could've been there when she woke up anytime he wanted to be? He didn't have to go to Germany for that.

She had to tell him. She had to. This time, she would. She had to this time. Even as she thought it, though, she laughed at herself. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd said that to herself, what would make this time any different? When he was shot, she'd prayed all night long. And in those prayers, she told God she'd tell him. That whether he felt the same way or not, if God let him live, she'd tell him. He deserved to know. She couldn't let him die without saying it.

And then, when she'd woken up in Germany and he was there, she said it again. She was dozing off from the morphine and she told herself that when she woke up she was going to tell him. Life was too short and she'd almost died and what if she'd died and he never knew? He deserved to know.

Then she was going into surgery and she'd come closer than she ever had before. She asked for him. They were putting her under and she shook her head no and whispered his name over and over. Finally, they brought him in the room, but when she looked at him, all she could write was 'nice hat.' She'd looked at him, knowing she might never wake up and she'd written 'nice hat' instead of the most important thing she ever could've written. Part of her thought for sure he'd say it. He felt the same way, she was positive. But even there, when she might have died, neither had the guts to say the words. What made her think today was going to be any different? He was sitting in a building and she might never see him again, but still, she hadn't said it. What if something happened to him and she had to spend the rest of her life without having said it? What if she had to spend the rest of her life without having heard him say it back?

She looked at her phone. Call him right now. Tell him right now. She hit '1' and stared at it for several seconds. Then she hit 'end' and looked back out the window.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

He took a deep breath. Carol stood next to him with a stack of papers in her hand and he considered offering her money to brief for him. One more deep breath and he walked in the pressroom where reporters immediately jumped to their feet and started yelling his name.

He ignored the noise and went directly into his brief. "Approximately 32 minutes ago, a riot broke out at a rally in Miami, FL., where Vice-President Russell and presidential candidate Congressman Santos were scheduled to speak. Local police and FBI are on the scene, and both the Vice-President and Congressman Santos are safe and away from the park."

"Toby!" the shouting started again.

"Katie," he said, pointing to her.

"Toby, is the riot a result of the address the President gave today?"

"I don't see how. The riot started two minutes before the President went on the air. Ed."

"But the riot is linked to the administration's recent meetings with Cuban leader Fidel Castro, correct?"

"The riot is linked to 1200 people who started it. Mike."

"Toby, are you saying the riot had nothing to do with the administration talking to Cuban leaders?"

He took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. "I'm saying the President didn't start a riot. Mark."

"In light of today's events and obvious public opinion, is the President still as confident in his decision to work with Mr. Castro?"

"The President understands the concerns Americans, especially Cuban-Americans have, but firmly believes this is the best course of action at this time. Jeff."

"Is it true that Josh Lyman's trapped inside a building at the riot and if so, is he injured?"

Toby looked to his right where Mike Casper was standing and shaking his head. "A representative from the FBI will be fielding all questions concerning the site and injuries, that's all I have," he said and walked off the podium as they continued shouting his name.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

He found himself surprised that he never knew how much a woman's purse weighed. He found himself surprised that he was so excited to have dinner that night. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and cringed.

He reached for several paper towels and soaked them in water, then dabbed at the gash on his head with them. It hurt like hell as the rough edges touched the cut and he gritted his teeth and cursed Bob Russell's name, trying to keep bile from rising in his throat at the site of the blood.

His nose had stopped bleeding, and didn't really hurt, so he thankfully assumed it wasn't broken. As for his forehead, it would need stitches; there was no way he'd get out of this without them. It was still bleeding like hell, and it was pulled widely open, showing him white fatty material and what he hoped was bone, not skull.

Something hit the main door to the pavilion again and he froze. He waited a solid minute before moving or perhaps even breathing, then he slowly opened the bathroom door and poked his head out, looking at the main door. It was visibly sunken in, had a huge crack straight down the center of it, and the lock was bent. One more big push and he wouldn't be alone.

He shook himself out of his daze, shut the bathroom door again, and started digging through Donna's purse, tossing a comb, a small day runner, some lipstick, and three pens into the sink before he found the Aleve, which he swallowed three of with no water. Then he shrugged off both his dress shirt and t-shirt. If he was going to have to run for it, he was going to have to protect his forehead. He put his dress shirt back on and looked at his t-shirt, wondering how he was supposed to use it to stop the bleeding. He tried tying it around his head, and it slipped, pulling the wound apart even more and hurting so much that he screamed loud enough to make him wonder if anyone outside had heard it.

He looked at Donna's purse again, and figured she'd forgive him once she saw his head and screamed at him for lying to her about it. He started digging around in it again and found a small pair of scissors. He cut his t-shirt down the center, then folded it neatly and very carefully put it to his head again over a few wet paper towels. He tied it more carefully this time, and it stayed put, the pressure immediately helping the pain.

He looked at himself in the mirror, a white t-shirt tied to his head with brown paper towels sticking out where the gash was, a little blood on the shirt he was wearing, smeared blood on his pants leg where he had wiped his face and then his pants, and dried blood just inside his nose as well as in his hair line. Maybe they could order in.

He grabbed Donna's things from the sink and started shoving them back into her purse. The day runner fell on the floor and he put everything else in the purse and sat down. When he picked up the day runner, the calendar opened to February 9 and he noticed his name.

He looked closer and saw a list of things to do, all crossed off except the line that said 'call Josh.' He flipped to the next day and saw another list, again every thing crossed off except 'call Josh.' The page after that was the same as well. He randomly flipped through the calendar and each of the pages he flipped to, January 4th, January 23rd, and March 3rd, were all the same. He hung his head and took a deep breath. When had they gotten so far away from each other that she couldn't even call? And what had he done in this life to deserve to be loved enough by her that every day she'd try. A tear stung his eye and he let it pool there until it finally slipped slowly down his cheek and landed on his lip.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

"Have we messed up?" Leo asked the President as they sat in the oval office playing chess.

"We usually do at least once a day," the President replied, moving a knight.

"Yeah, but it doesn't usually result in Josh's life being in danger. We've only done that once before."

The President picked up his bishop, staring at it for a minute before setting it back down. "That time wasn't our fault."

"No," he agreed, moving a pawn. "But this time…"

The President stood up and walked to his desk. "We had a very small window of opportunity Leo, you said so yourself," he said defensively.

"Yeah. But…"

"What?"

"I sent him out there. Told him to find the next you. He went and did that and now I'm sabotaging him."

"We only have ten months left. We have to…"

"Preserve your legacy?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Do what we can," the President countered bitterly.

"I just wonder if by holding on so tightly, getting whatever we can get done by pissing everyone off, if we're hurting the party."

"It's not the party I'm concerned about, it's the world."

"What good does it do us to make these amazing changes if we're ensuring that a republican will be here next to undo it all?" he asked himself as much as the President.

"Vinick's going to win the nomination, you know he is. Santos can't beat him, Russell can't even beat him."

Leo looked pointedly at him. "People stood in this room and said that about you once. Thing is, I've always found that Josh can get anyone elected; that's why I pulled him away from Hoynes eight years ago. It's got to be tough though, fighting Russell, fighting the republicans…"

The President took a deep breath. "Fighting us."

"Yeah."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

Matt pulled into the hotel parking lot and up to the main entrance, but Donna didn't budge. He looked at Ned, who nodded, got out and opened the sliding door, which woke her from the daze she'd been in the last five minutes or so. She looked at him and then up at the Comfort Inn sign, and then she stepped out, letting Ronna and Helen out of the minivan. Then, just before Ned closed the door again, she slid back into her seat. Matt turned around and looked at her, but she avoided his gaze.

"Come on Chicken Fighter, this is where you get out," he said in a friendly manner.

"I'm going back with you."

"Donna…"

"I'm going back with you," she repeated softly, staring at the phone in her hand.

He hung his head for a second and then looked back at her. "I understand Donna, I do, but he asked me to bring you here."

"And you did. Now I'm going back with you."

He took a deep breath and put the van in park, then got out and went to the other side where Helen and Ronna stood next to Ned, who was still holding the door open. His wife looked at him with a superior smile on her face and he wondered what she was thinking. "Donna, get out of the van," he said sternly.

"No," she said stubbornly, reminding him of his children. Helen must've thought the same thing, because she chuckled next to him.

"I'm not leaving until you get out of the van."

Without looking at him, she hit something on her cell phone and put it to her ear. "Yes, I need the name and number of a cab company in Miami, please."

Helen chuckled again and he sent her a glare. "You're not helping. I told him I'd get her out of there," he said quietly before turning back to Donna. "You're not going to find a cabby who'll take you to that park, Donna."

She ignored him and spoke into the cell phone. "Hi. I'm at the Comfort Inn on…" she looked past Matt to Helen.

"52nd Avenue."

"Helen!" Matt yelled.

She looked at him and shook her head. Men were so obtuse sometimes. "She's going back, Matt. One way or another."

"52nd Street," Donna continued. "I need to get to GwenCherryPark or as close as you can get me to it. There's a hundred dollar tip if someone can be here to get me within the next five minutes… thank you."

Matt glared at her for several seconds while she stared straight ahead at the seat in front of her, then he turned around and walked quickly to the driver's side. "The man asks me to do one thing. One thing!" He got in and slammed the door shut. "Let's go, Ned!"

"Thank you," Donna mouthed to Helen as Ned shut the door.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The ride back was as quiet as the ride there. He glanced at her through the rearview mirror occasionally, but she just stared out the window. There could've been a thousand people in that minivan, and she wouldn't have noticed. Still, he was certain she could just as easily command a room as she could sink into it. She reminded him of his wife that way. Wallpaper and completely unnoticeable if she wanted to be, but the center of attention and the one everyone looked at if that's what she wanted.

And stubborn. She was like his wife there too; there was no getting around it. This woman would not be stopped. He briefly wondered if he'd have to physically restrain her once they got to he park, and if he was prepared to do that. What if she started off towards that pavilion? Was he going to stop her?

He thought back to Helen and the gleam in her eyes when they were standing outside that minivan. When had this chicken fighter gotten his wife on her side? They hadn't even officially met. Still, he couldn't be mad. He'd missed that gleam. She hadn't had it much since they'd been on the campaign trail. She wasn't sold on it. Any of it. She wasn't sold on his ability to get elected, wasn't sold on what he'd have to do and the compromises he'd have to make to get elected, wasn't sold on a possible move to Washington DC, wasn't sold on the time away from the kids, and she certainly wasn't sold on Josh Lyman. But thinking back to the gleam in her eyes, she sure seemed to be sold on this Donna woman.

He glanced back to Donna again. She and his wife were a lot alike. Helen's loyalty never surprised him and never failed to leave him in awe of her. As unsold as she was on this Presidential thing, she'd been there for every step of it. He briefly pictured himself in that pavilion. No wonder Helen liked this woman; she was doing exactly what Helen would've been doing.

And Josh… here was this man he'd spent fifteen hours a day with for the last three months. How was it he didn't know this about his campaign manager? Not necessarily who he was dating; he was telling the truth when he'd said he didn't care who Josh dated. But, that he had a personal life at all. Matt had never even heard him tell a joke before, much less talk about a movie or a date or a woman named Donna. How was he supposed to know Josh ever thought of anything other than politics? That he was in love. That there was someone he was willing to die for.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

"He's not answering his phone," she mumbled. Ned looked back at her, but she ignored him and dialed again. Again, his voicemail picked up. "He's not answering his phone," she said louder.

"He probably can't hear it ring," Ned said.

"He keeps it on vibrate. He always has it on vibrate. Always."

"They're probably pulling him out of there right now. Or he's out and he's giving them a statement," Matt said hopefully.

"He always answers when I call," she said. "He knows I worry. He always answers when I call," she said again.

She tried again and the voicemail picked up. Tears sprang to her eyes and she harshly wiped them away. "Josh, call me. You're scaring me. I've called three times. Call me."

She saw Matt look over at Ned with what looked like a worried expression on his face. "Can you drive faster, please?" she asked calmly.

"We're almost there," he replied, stepping on the gas a bit as Donna dialed again.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

"What do you know about Donna?" she asked Ronna as they sat in the Santos' room waiting on news.

Ronna shrugged. "Nothing. Josh introduced me to her once." She went into the bathroom and washed her face. She wasn't sure why, but she felt icky and sweaty.

"She seems tough," Helen said, more to herself than to Ronna.

"She seems worried about Josh," Ronna replied while drying her face with a hand towel.

"Did you see how she handled my husband out there?"

Ronna smiled. "Why does it make me happy to think she must handle Josh like that?"

Helen laughed. "It'd be like getting a Christmas present to watch that."

"Yes it would."

"Matt likes him," she said, standing up and walking towards the restroom herself.

"He's very good. I like him. I just… I don't know."

Helen nodded. "We wouldn't have made it past the first primary without him. But he… have you ever even seen the man smile?"

Ronna smiled and shook her head. "I bet he smiled when she told him she was in the van with us."

"Yeah."

"I like her," Ronna said.

"Me too."

"You know, and this is just off the top of my head, but if we get the nomination, we're going to need a bigger staff, including a press secretary."

"If we get the nomination, I'm going to need a chief of staff," Helen said with a smile before shutting the bathroom door.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

"How you doin'?" he asked her when he picked up the phone.

"Toby, Josh isn't answering his phone. Have you heard from the police? Do they have him out of there yet?" She was speaking very quickly, and he could tell she was barely holding it together.

He looked over at Mike Casper. "Hold on. Mike Casper's here. I'll see what he knows."

He scribbled 'Josh?' on a piece of paper and handed it to Mike, who was on the phone with the FBI on the scene. He took the paper from Toby, scribbled 'not yet, soon' on it, and handed it back.

He continued staring at Mike for a few seconds, until he looked up at him. 'You sure?' he mouthed. Mike nodded. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before picking his cell back up.

"Donna. According to Mike, they're going in to get him soon."

"Soon?" she yelled.

He closed his eyes and ran his hand over the top of his head. "They're doing the best they can, Donna," he said quietly.

"I don't give a shit about their best! He's not answering his phone Toby! Something's happened!"

"You don't know that," he said slowly.

"He's not answering his phone!" she screamed. "Why doesn't anyone understand that he's not answering his fucking phone?"

"Maybe he can't hear it over the noise," he answered lamely. He knew that wasn't the case, knew she wouldn't buy it, but he had nothing better to say to her.

He could hear her sobbing, gasping for breath. Several seconds went by before she whispered, "Toby," with a quivering voice.

"I know. I'm gonna call the police on the scene and tell them to get the hell in there."

"Please hurry, Toby."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

He knew. The second it happened, he knew. He was in the restroom with the door shut, where the noise, although still loud, wasn't deafening. He was sitting there, still holding Donna's day runner, when the door was broken in. And without looking out into the main room, he knew. He was no longer alone, it wasn't the police, and he was no longer safe. And the very next thought that went through his head was 'thank You God, thank You for getting Donna out of this.'

He stood up slowly, shaking inside and out. His breathing shallow, his jaw set hard, his grip tight on the toilet bowl brush. He had to move, had to go, had to go now. He felt his cell vibrate on his hip, and he was thankful the ringer wasn't on.

He took a deep breath; at least he tried to, and then opened the door. The first thing he saw was a man flying through the air. He hit the corner of one of the picnic tables and then landed on the floor with a thud Josh knew must've been loud because he could hear it over the noise.

Two other men walked up to the first man and began hitting him over and over with night sticks while screaming at him in Spanish. He watched as something flew off the end of one of the nightsticks as a hugely built man swung it up and over his head before swinging it back down and hitting the man on the floor again. He looked over to the wall and saw blood splattered on it. Holy shit, he thought, where did they get night sticks? That's when he looked closer at the man on the floor. A police officer.

Of course he didn't notice at first. He was too engrossed by the man's face, bloody and swollen, the sound his head made when he hit the corner of the picnic table before landing harshly on the cement floor. But now, as he looked closer, he saw the blue uniform, the empty gun holster on his hip, the badge over his heart. He was a police officer and they were beating him to death.

As soon as it started, it stopped. The two men stood up, spit on the officer and kicked him hard in the stomach a few times. Just as they turned around, Josh ducked behind the bathroom door, hoping they hadn't noticed it was closed when they came in.

He waited a minute; counted slowly to sixty before tentatively looking back into the main room. The two men were gone, only the officer remained. He looked to the door; it was hanging open, swinging lightly and probably squeaking, although he couldn't hear it. He looked back to the police officer, lying still on the cement ground, and ran to him. The phone in his pocket began vibrating again, but he'd have to worry about that later.

There seemed to be blood everywhere, his neck, his shirt, his arms, and as Josh began feeling for a pulse, he fought the image of his hand on his own stomach as he leaned against a cement wall bleeding. Fought the image of bloody gauze on a hospital room floor, fought the vomit that came up in his mouth. There was no time for that.

He couldn't be sure he was feeling in the right place for the right thing, depending on years of watching St. Elsewhere and before that, Emergency. Since the shooting, he hadn't watched any television shows like that, couldn't really, so he hoped he was doing it right. He moved his fingers around several times before he felt a faint pulsing against his index finger. At least, if felt faint to him. He had no idea what a normal pulse felt like, but this seemed slow. He was sure his heart was beating at least twice that fast.

The man's head had landed at an odd angle, and Josh very carefully tried to move it. He put his hands on either side of his head and slowly shifted it. His hands hit something warm, and when he pulled them out from behind the man's head, they were covered in blood and something else…something glossy. He barely turned his head in time to miss the man when he vomited.

Don't move him. That was the only thought of about a thousand in the three or four seconds he thought about it that seemed to stick. He could've hurt his spine, broken his back, his neck. Don't move him. He cursed himself; he'd just moved his head. What if... he shook his head. He couldn't think about that now. He had to get him out of there.

He stood quickly and looked around the small room. He'd paced it about a hundred times that morning before the rally had started, but still he looked for something now, anything, having no idea what, but knowing he needed something. Finally, he pulled one of the picnic tables over, trying to block the man from view, then went to the corner where he'd long ago tossed his suite jacket and brought it over to him, carefully placing it over his torso both to keep him warm and to hide the fact that he was a police officer from anyone who happened upon him, and then went to the door.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The closer they got to the park, the slower the traffic got. He'd heard on the radio that the streets around the park had been blocked off five blocks in every direction. They'd have to park soon and walk the rest of the way.

Donna was crying again. She'd tried Josh about five times in the last five minutes and had called the White House. Now she was staring out the window again, tears falling down her face, holding her phone reverently in her hands and Matt wished his wife were here. He was no good with crying women, especially crying women he didn't know.

"Donna," he said lightly as he pulled onto a side street.

"Hmm…" she said distractedly, still looking out the window.

"Donna," he said a bit more sternly and she slowly turned her head and caught his eye in the rearview mirror.

"Yes?"

"We're gonna have to park here and walk the rest of the way."

"Ok," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

"Donna, I need you to promise me you're going to stay with me when we get out of the van."

She looked at him and didn't answer.

"I mean it Donna. You have to stay with me. If I can't trust you to do that, I'm turning around and going back to the hotel."

"You can't hold me hostage in a minivan, Congressman," she spit out at him.

Yes, everything she said reminded him how much like Helen she was. "No, but Josh asked me to keep you safe and if that means not going to that park, that's what I'll do."

Donna pulled at the door and he was glad he'd thought ahead to hit the power locks. She shot him an evil glare and had the situation not been so serious, he was sure he would've laughed at her. He found himself looking forward to all of them going to dinner once this whole mess was over. He'd have Helen arrange it. "Josh is over protective."

"I have no doubts. But in this case, I agree with him. I need you promise me a few things."

"What?"

"You stay with me and Ned at all times."

She looked at him for several seconds before replying in a flat voice. "Fine."

"You stay calm and let the police do their jobs."

"Fine."

"You don't, and this is a big one Donna, you don't go into that crowd or attempt to go near that pavilion."

She looked away and out the window. "I can't promise that."

"Donna."

"I'm an adult, Congressman." She looked back at him. "You need to respect my decisions."

His only response was to pull out of the parking spot and to start driving again. He could bluff as well as she could.

"He might need me," she whispered a second later.

"He needs you to be safe. That's been his number one goal throughout this entire thing. That's why he's there, Donna. You need to respect his decisions." He stressed 'his' and suddenly found himself thinking that sometimes he needed to do the same thing. Josh was a brilliant man, and Matt tended to forget it.

She was quiet for another minute while he continued driving down the side street. "I won't go in the crowd," she said quietly.

"Or near the pavilion."

"Or near the pavilion," she repeated.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

Sticking his head out the door, he couldn't believe the chaos outside. The noise was even worse now than before, if that was even possible. Someone was screaming into the microphone on what was left of the stage, switching between English and Spanish, some others were cheering him on and screaming as they listened, police were yelling into bullhorns, trying to stop the fighting, and countless police and ambulance sirens were going off not far away. He heard a few gunshots and hoped it was the police firing into the air, although he couldn't help remembering that the officer who was in the pavilion had an empty gun holster on his hip, and his gun could be anywhere.

Directly in front of him stood the bulk of the crowd, still gathered around the man on the microphone, waving signs and screaming. He did notice that it was a smaller crowd than before and hoped it meant the police were making some progress. Off to either side of him were huge fights, ten or so men brutally beating on each other while others stood by watching and cheering. He saw more than one knife, watched as men kicked each other, saw a man get stabbed in the arm, all in a matter of seconds.

The good news, he thought, was that with the fighting, people were huddled and there was a bit more room to maneuver through the crowd. He willed his hands to stop shaking and took off at a quick pace to his right. He didn't run, didn't want to make a spectacle of himself. Instead, he walked quickly, ducking in and out of people, keeping his head down and trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

He'd only gone about twenty feet when out of the corner of his eye he saw two boys fighting, He stopped suddenly as the bigger of the two, who he figured still couldn't be older than ten, shoved the smaller boy against a tree, then hit him harshly in the face. The other one continued swinging, hitting anything he could reach. Josh turned to his left, went up to the boys and pulled them apart harshly. Surprised, they stopped fighting and looked at him. He let go of the smaller one, who took off running, but held onto the bigger one for a few seconds, then shoved him off in the other direction.

Turning again, he continued walking quickly. He looked up when he saw two police officers in a group of men, one of them handcuffing someone while the other held on to the two others, who were already handcuffed. He'd just started towards them when he felt something hit his leg and he fell to the ground.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzz**

Mike heard Toby saying something on his cell phone and knew he was talking to Donna Moss, who by all accounts was away from the scene. But there was something about the way Toby was looking at him as he finished the call, something about the way he had asked about Josh. Something had happened. He didn't know what, and he didn't know why Donna Moss and Toby Ziegler knew it before him, but he know that something had happened. "Hold on a sec, Jeff," he said to the agent in charge at the scene who he'd been talking to.

He put his hand over the receive and made eye contact with Toby, who simply and quietly said, "Josh isn't answering his cell phone. Something's happened to him."

"Maybe…"

"Something's happened," Toby said, cutting him off and shaking his head.

Mike looked at him. Toby had the luxury of going off suspicions, but Mike had to know the facts. Still, Toby and Donna knew Josh well. Mike knew him pretty well himself, had never known him to not answer a call from Donna. He put the phone back up to his ear. "Someone needs to get Lyman out of there now."

"We're working on it," Jeff yelled into the phone. "There are fights everywhere here. Guns, knives… they've got some guy on stage telling people to fight. Telling them to show us what it's like in Cuba. What they live with there. It's… I've never seen anything like it."

He could barely hear Jeff over the noise, and he could only imagine how much louder it was there. "What about the pavilion?"

"I'll see what I can find out," he yelled. "Hold on."

Mike turned back to Toby. "He's checking on the pavilion now. He…" Jeff was talking into the phone again and Mike turned his attention back to him. "What'd you find out?" he asked loudly.

"The door's open. We can't see anything inside, we're too far away, but the door to the pavilion was closed a few minutes ago and it's open now."

"Shit," he sighed. "You've got to find him, Jeff. He could be recognized in that crowd, and if they recognize him, they'll kill him."

"Yeah!" He heard Jeff screaming to someone in the background for a minute and then he was back on the line. "I'm sending three men in now! I'll call you back when I know something!"

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She watched out the window as he circled the block again and parked in the same spot he'd been in a minute before. She looked at her cell phone. About 50 minutes since the whole thing started, eight since he'd stopped answering his phone. She tried him one more time while the congressman parallel parked on the small house-lined street. His voicemail picked up again, this time without ringing, and she left him another message to call her immediately.

When she stepped out of the van, Ned and the congressman were standing right next to her door, all but daring her to run from them. She simply looked at them and started quickly walking towards the park, towards the noise, and they followed.

She tried not to dwell on the noise. It wasn't bad yet, but they were still several blocks from the park. Instead, she told herself over and over that he promised to have dinner with her that night. He had to be ok, because if he wasn't, they couldn't have dinner and that would mean he'd lied. And Josh didn't lie to her.

"Chicken Fighter," the Congressman said, "how long have you and Josh been together?"

"Eight years," she said distractedly. This would be the first time they'd eaten together since breakfast the morning she quit. He wouldn't cancel on her this time, like he had lunch all those times. He'd promised, and Josh never broke promises to her.

"Then you must know the assistant," Ned said as they walked.

"The assistant?" she asked, coming out of her reverie.

The congressman chuckled. "The one Ned will never be," he said.

"You're Josh's assistant?" she asked him with more than a little shock in her voice. She might have quit, but she wasn't completely prepared to be replaced.

"I'm the campaign assistant. I'm all we can afford."

She nodded. "We're going to have a talk later about you taking better care of him. The next time he wants to stay behind someplace, you drag his ass to the van."

He smiled. "So you did know her."

"Yeah, I knew her."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

He felt a blow to his stomach and rolled onto his side to try to get up. He saw brown work boots just as the second kick hit him. It was harder and knocked the wind out of him and he tucked himself into a ball as the third kick hit him in the leg. There was another blow, this time to his back and he covered his face and his forehead with his hands. There was one more kick to his back and then he could feel someone breathing on his neck.

He kept his arms around his head and tried to catch his breath as the man stooped over him and pulled him up by his collar until he was standing. Slowly and carefully, he brought his arms down just a little and opened his eyes. The man then leaned in close to him and screamed, "What you do to my son?"

Josh's eyes went huge. "He… he was getting hurt. I was trying to help," he yelled over the noise. He didn't know which of the two boys this man was talking about, but it didn't matter, neither one was safe.

The man used Josh's shirt that was fisted in his hand to choke him, punching him in the face and then the stomach. Josh heard voices over the crowd just as he fell to the ground again. "Stay the hell away from my son," the man yelled, kicking him once more in the stomach before running off.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

He rolled over onto his stomach, groaning, and tried to push himself onto his knees and hands. His head was throbbing, his stomach aching, his back shooting in pain, his legs weak, and he could barely hear himself think over the noise. He managed to get on his hands and knees and stayed that way for a few seconds, trying to will himself to stop shaking, start breathing, and not fall back down. Again, he sent up a thank you to whomever was listening for getting Donna out of there.

He tried to stand, but couldn't push himself up to his feet, so he stared at the dirt ground underneath him and watched as blood dripped off his face and pooled there below. He wasn't sure if it was coming from the gash on his forehead or if the punch to his face had caused something new, but either way, there wasn't much he could do about it now.

He felt hands on him and he immediately dropped back onto his side, balling himself as small as he possibly could and covering his head with his arms again and hoping, nearly praying that he wouldn't get hurt too badly. It occurred to him that maybe he should fight back, but he was simply too weak to do anything but lie there.

"Can you stand?" someone yelled to him.

He wasn't sure he heard it correctly at first, the voice asking him if he could stand. But whoever it was shouted it again and started pulling on his arm. He opened his eyes and saw a police officer standing over him, shouting, and although he could barely make it out over the noise, he suddenly felt safe.

"Try to stand," he shouted again.

Josh rolled back onto his stomach, pushing himself onto all fours, and the offer grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him to his feat. He leaned forward on him for several seconds and then started to take on his own weight, slowly standing upright. The park seemed to spin and he could taste the blood that now dripped down his face and into his mouth, the taste of it mixing with the vomit from a few minutes earlier making his stomach not only physically hurt, but now completely nauseous as well.

The officer stood in front of him, holding onto his shoulders, looking down into his face. "You ok standing on your own?" he shouted.

He stood for a second, checking his balance, then nodded.

The officer looked in his eyes but brought Josh's his left arm out in front of him, and Josh felt something around his wrist. He still wasn't sure what was happening, even as his right arm was pulled around and handcuffed as well. "Wait," he said, confused.

"This is just a precaution, you're not under arrest yet," he shouted to Josh.

"But…" he trailed off in exhaustion as they started walking, the officer behind him, pushing him gently along.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

He stood at the door to the oval office watching CJ and the President discussing something quietly. Probably something else to sabotage the democrat's chances of getting back in the White House, he thought. He wondered for the first time if President Bartlet wanted it that way. If he was so egotistical he didn't want a democrat following in his footsteps, doing things as well or better than him. He shook the thought out of his mind. He couldn't, wouldn't, work for that man. This President couldn't have turned into that man.

He cleared his throat and the President looked over at him. "Toby."

"Yes Sir," he replied coldly, walking into the room. CJ closed the folder she was holding and Toby rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Any news on Josh?" the President asked.

He stood in front of the President's desk with his hands behind his back. "It appears someone's gotten into the pavilion he was in and now he's not answering his phone."

"Damn it," the President shouted, hitting his desk with his fist. "Why in the hell is this thing still going on? It's been almost an hour!"

"Miami hasn't sent in their riot team," he answered simply.

"Why the hell not?"

"Officially? They don't believe it's large enough to warrant it and they don't want to alienate their Cuban-American population and create even more problems in the city."

"And unofficially?"

He shrugged. "We look extremely bad right now. I'd guess the republican mayor and republican governor see this as their chance to ensure Vinick gets Florida in November."

The President stared at him for a minute. "You're kidding me," he said quietly.

"No," Toby replied simply.

The President took a deep breath and looked down at his desk. "How many dead now?"

"At least nine," he replied.

"Debbie," the President shouted. Several seconds later she appeared at his door with raised eyebrows. "Get me the mayor of Miami on the phone. Now."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

They got to the barricades in just a few minutes and watched the chaos around them. Police offers and were literally running around, in and out of the still very large crowd of people. There were at least a dozen ambulances just outside the barricaded area and even more police cars were parked in the grass, along the small street leading to the park, and across the street in the parking lot. People were being brought out handcuffed and placed in police cars or in ambulances and then the officers were heading back into the nightmare. And the noise; she couldn't believe how loud it was; it seemed to have gotten worse instead of better over the last 55 minutes.

She was between Ned and Matt and they were sandwiching her in as much as possible. The closer they got to the scene, the closer they'd gotten to her. Finally, the congressman had simple taken hold of her arm. She wanted to protest, to tell him to leave her the hell alone so she could get to Josh, but he had a valid point. Josh had worked very hard to make sure she wasn't in that.

Several police officers rushed by them as Matt tried to get their attention, but they didn't even glance their way. There were several other people behind the barricades looking in, and Donna found herself wondering how many of them were waiting like her…on news, on a rescue, on the sight of someone they loved.

Matt turned towards her and shouted in her ear. "I'm going to see if I can find anything out. You wait here. Don't leave Ned."

"I'm coming with you!" she shouted back.

He shook his head. "No!"

She gave him the glare he was getting somewhat used to and started walking towards a group of officers several yards from them. He looked at Ned and put his hands out pretending to strangle the air where she'd been standing before turning and jogging to catch up with her.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

Just keep walking, he thought to himself. Just keep going. You're with a police officer and your safe. You can explain who you are and that you shouldn't be under arrest when you get out of this mess. Just keep walking… Then he remembered the police officer.

"There's someone in the pavilion," he yelled, turning his head slightly, hoping the officer would be able to hear him.

"We know; we're working on getting to him."

He stopped walking. "What?"

"We know!" He gave Josh a little push to get him walking again.

"No! That's me! There's someone else. A police officer."

"What?"

He stopped again and turned around. "An officer. Two men were…" he trailed off. "He's unconscious. He's in the pavilion behind a picnic table!"

"When?"

"Just a few minutes ago. I came out to get help and…" he held up his handcuffed hands.

The officer shook his head. "I can't hear you. A police officer?"

Josh nodded and shouted again. "Yes! His head's bleeding. It looked bad."

He looked at Josh and pulled out a walkie-talkie. "This is Davidson. We have an officer down in the pavilion. Repeat, officer down in the pavilion!"

"Repeat that Davidson, we can't hear you," Josh heard someone reply.

"There's an officer down in the pavilion! Get someone in there! He's…" he looked back at Josh.

"Behind a picnic table! He's bleeding and he's unconscious," Josh shouted.

Davidson put the walkie-talkie as close to his mouth as possible and used his other hand to block out the surrounding noise. "He's behind a picnic table. You're going to need a gurney, he's not conscious."

"Still having a hard time hearing you Davidson. Someone's down in the pavilion?"

"Yes, bleeding badly and unconscious!"

There was silence on the other end of the line and the officer looked at Josh. Finally, he came back over the line. "Sending in a team now Davidson."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She moved a barricade slightly and maneuvered between it and the one next to it and headed straight to a group of officers with Matt and Ned just behind her. When they reached the officers, Matt started talking. "Excuse me. There's a man trapped in that pavilion!"

"We know Sir. You need to move over there," he shouted, pointing to the other people waiting behind the barricades.

"Josh Lyman. Has anyone gotten him out of there?"

The officer shook his head. "We're working on it. We know he's there, we're getting to him as soon as possible."

"He's a chief advisor for President Bartlet. He needs to be rescued now!" Donna screamed.

"We know who he is ma'am. We're doing our best," he yelled, motioning another officer to them.

The man walked up to them holding a walkie-talkie and yelled in his ear. "I've got Davidson. Something's going on. I can barely hear him." They both leaned in close when Davidson started talking again.

"He's behind a picnic table. You're going to need a gurney, he's not conscious," they barely heard through the walkie-talkie.

The officer holding the walkie-talkie shouted. "Still having a hard time hearing you Davidson. Someone's down in the pavilion?" Donna's head jerked in the direction of the officers and she and Matt moved closer. The officer they'd been talking to looked at them and then moved so they could hear.

"Yes, bleeding badly and unconscious!" Davidson replied.

The officer looked at Donna, whose face was pale. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes and she buried her head in Matt's chest.

The officer clicked the button on his walkie-talkie. "Sending in a team now Davidson."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Bleeding and unconscious. The words played over and over in his mind as his arms closed around Donna, holding her close to his chest, feeling her erratic breathing and her tears through his shirt. Bleeding and unconscious.

This whole time he'd just assumed Josh would be ok. Didn't think for a second something would actually happen to him. He'd wait in the pavilion, they'd break up the riot and get him out of there, then he'd get a few stitches. That would be the end of it, he'd been sure of it. Bleeding and unconscious.

He listened to the police officer they'd been talking to give directions. It would be three officers and two paramedics with a gurney going in to get him. They'd need to hurry because they'd just received a phone call that the riot squad was on their way and if they were still inside once they started, they'd have to stay in there until it was over.

He wished his wife were there. He was thankful she was nowhere near this mess, but suddenly he was frightened that he and Ned were going to be all Donna had to hold onto during this, and that scared him nearly as much as the fact that Josh was bleeding and unconscious in a pavilion did. He didn't know her; didn't know how to console her, how to encourage her, how to hold her up, how to tell her…anything he'd have to tell her. And as he thought of it, he looked forward over the next eight years at the bad news he'd have to deliver to strangers if he were elected President. Suddenly, he felt unqualified and scared, and he trampled the feeling down, telling himself that as long as Josh were there with him he'd be ok. But right now Josh was bleeding and unconscious.

He felt Donna start to pull back and he let his arms loosen around her. Once she was standing, he looked down at her swollen, red eyes where tears had fallen but had now disappeared. She looked…adamant. As though she hadn't given Josh permission to be hurt, and therefore he must be ok. Like she simply wouldn't allow it. She wiped her nose, shook her hair behind her shoulders and took a deep breath. "You all right?" he asked loudly and awkwardly.

She nodded slowly and deliberately and turned around, facing the pavilion again. She took a hesitant step forward, as though being one step closer to Josh than the other bystanders was important to her somehow, was important to Josh, so he stayed back and let her be alone and in front. She kept her chin high and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, standing there for a few seconds. He watched her shoulders move up and down as she took another deep breath, and then there was another step, and before he could even register it, she was running full speed towards the pavilion. "Damn it," he screamed, chasing after her.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

His lip was split, the taste of copper now constant in his mouth, and sweat was starting to get in some of the scratches on his arms and face, stinging badly. His stomach hurt so much it was hard to take deep breaths, and his head was throbbing. He could feel it pulsing, could feel the paper towels scratching the gash near his hairline, could feel blood or maybe sweat trickling down his neck.

It felt better when he walked bent over a little bit, easing the pressure on his back, which hurt from being kicked. So he walked, his head down, as officer Davidson led him through the crowd. He looked at his hands, cuffed together in front of him. Looked at the dried blood of the other officer on his palms, in his fingernails, on the cuffs of his shirt. He felt sick all over again, but didn't have the strength in his stomach to vomit.

He thought of Donna again; hated that she must be worried about him. His phone had vibrated in his pocket at least five times over the last ten minutes or so, and he knew it was her. He always took her calls, any time day or night, so he knew she'd be frantic by now. He hoped she was waiting for him at the hotel. Maybe in his room. The thought comforted him, made him smile just a little, and he wondered if she'd stay with him that night and take care of him; run her fingers through his hair, change the bandage that would be on his head, make him eat something healthy, not let him watch too much CNN. She used to like to take care of him, before he became peppermint ice cream to her.

Suddenly there was a gunshot and he didn't really know what was happening even as he was being pulled down. Offer Davidson pulling on his shirt choked him and he fell backwards with a thud, hitting his head on the dirt ground below him and biting his tongue.

He lay there for several seconds, trying to catch his breath. Was someone shooting at them? It wasn't the first gunshot he'd heard in the last hour, but this one was closer, too close. Had the officer seen someone with a gun? Is that why he'd pulled Josh onto the ground?

He looked over to the officer lying on the ground just next to him. His eyes were closed and blood was seeping through his pants on his right thigh. Blood? Josh tried to catch his breath as he came to grips with the situation. Officer Davidson, less than a foot away from him, had been shot. Suddenly he felt even less safe with a police officer than he had on his own.

He tried to sit up, but couldn't. Between his arms trapped out in front of him and the injuries to his stomach and back, he simply didn't have the strength. After a moment, he managed to roll onto his side and then his stomach, where he used his cuffed hands to push himself onto his knees. The t-shirt from around his head slipped and fell to the ground, letting sweat and dust into the gash, and he gritted his teeth to fight the sting.

He leaned over and shook Officer Davidson. "Officer," he yelled. Please not two officers in one day, he thought.

The man opened his eyes and looked at Josh, who took a deep breath of relief. "My leg."

"You've been shot, I think." Josh yelled back to him, immediately thinking of Toby. They had to be ok. Toby was the one; the one who… they had to be ok.

He tried to sit up and couldn't. Finally, Josh reached out and pulled on one of his arms, two injured aching men trying to get him into a sitting position. Josh's face winced in pain just as much as Davidson's, but a few seconds later, the officer was sitting up looking at his leg.

Josh watched the man looking at his own leg and wondered what they were going to do now. Had somebody accidentally shot him? Had they shot a gun and it just happened to hit this man in the leg, or had they aimed for him? And if they had, would they shoot again? Would they come over here and beat him like they had the other officer? Would they shoot Josh for being there? Would they beat him too? He looked around. There were still so many fights; too many to count from where he sat on his knees. He couldn't see any other officers from where he sat either. Should he leave him there and go for help? Would he even know how to get back to where he was? Would the man be safe there alone or would he end up like the other officer, unconscious and bleeding in the pavilion?

"Can you stand?" he yelled to Davidson.

The officer tore his eyes from his leg and looked up at Josh. Without answering, he started digging around in his pocket and came out a second later with a key. He pulled Josh's hands to him and uncuffed him. "I'm gonna need help," he shouted as the cuffs fell away from Josh's hands.

Josh nodded and stood up, muscles in his stomach and back fighting him as he did. He took Davidson by the shoulder and arm and pulled him up, letting the offer's weight fall on him, which caused him even more pain. As for Davidson, he actually screamed as Josh pulled him up, although Josh could barely make it out over the noise around them.

Josh positioned himself beneath Davidson's right shoulder and looked at him. "Ready?"

Davidson pulled the gun from his holster and held it with his left arm as his right arm went around Josh's shoulder. Then he looked at Josh and nodded.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

When they walked into the pavilion, they didn't see him at first. One of the paramedics was the first to see the man lying behind a picnic table with a dark suit jacket draped over him. There was a small pool of blood under his head, and his face was very badly beaten. Two of the police officers took post at the doors and the paramedics quickly got to work. They had nothing with them but a gurney, but one of them checked for a pulse, which was faint, while the other opened his eyes and checked responsiveness.

"How bad?" asked the third police officer.

"Bad," yelled one of the paramedics as they carefully slid the gurney underneath the still unconscious man and adjusted the falling suite jacket to protect him from the riot outside the building.

"Radio them," yelled the other paramedic. "Make sure the ambulance is waiting and ready to go. Tell them we have grey matter."

The officer looked at the paramedic for a few seconds and then closed his eyes. Finally, he picked up his walkie-talkie and started shouting into it as they rushed out of the building with the officer.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She'd only gone about thirty feet when she felt his arms around her waist. She struggled to break free of him, getting loose and running again. The only thought going through her head was getting to Josh. Everything would be ok if she could only get to Josh.

He needed her. She was sure of it; he needed her there with him. He was always ok when she was there. She just needed to get to him. He'd forgive her later; once everything was ok. He'd forgive her for not waiting at the hotel. She'd gotten in the van and had tried to do what he asked, but he needed her and that was what mattered most. And she'd apologize to the congressman too, for not keeping her promise. But she couldn't. She couldn't keep it. She'd tried, but she had to get to him, there was no question. She had to.

He was there again, just behind her. She could barely hear him screaming her name, yelling for her to stop. And then his arms were around her waist again and she was struggling to get loose. "Let go of me!" she screamed with everything she had.

"Donna!" He was fighting her. More to the point, she was fighting him. Her arms were flailing and she was kicking, whatever it took to get loose. He was trying to trap her arms to her sides, trying to dodge her kicking and hitting, but was also trying hard not to hurt her. Yes, she'd definitely have to apologize later.

"Let go of me!" she screamed again, as he caught her left wrist, holding it down with his arm. She kept swinging with her other arm, tried stomping on his feet. She had to get to Josh. She had to.

Two police officers came running up to them, grabbing her other arm and pinning it behind her back. Nearly panicking at the thought of Josh bleeding and lying on a cold cement floor, she continued kicking, but she wasn't strong enough for all three of them, and soon she found herself with her arms behind her back by one officer while the other pulled handcuffs off his belt. She looked to the congressman with fear in her eyes and he closed his own eyes and shook his head. "She's fine," he yelled to them. "She's coming back."

She stood quietly, tears lining her cheeks, hair tangled and in her face, panting for breath and watched him talking to the officers. "She's fine," he said again. "You don't need to…" he trailed off. "She's just worried. She's coming back."

One of the officers she couldn't see, the one holding her arms behind her back, yelled back to him. "She's got to stay out of here." Matt looked at her, prodding her with his eyes, and she slowly nodded.

"We'll go back," he yelled to the officer.

Still holding her arms, she listened as he spoke to her. "Ma'am, get behind the barricades or I'm going to restrain you. Understand?"

She nodded again and he released her. Matt took her by the elbow and started walking back towards the police cars and ambulances while the officers watched them walk and then started back into the riot area. She started to pull away again and he gripped her elbow tightly, wrapping his other arm around her waist and glaring at her. "Don't. Don't even think about it."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Tell me that's not what I think it is," Toby said quietly as he stood in CJ's office watching CNN.

She looked up from her desk to the television. "What? I don't see…oh shit. That's what you think it is," she said defeatedly.

They watched in the corner of the screen, behind what the camera was focusing on at what looked like Matt Santos restraining or maybe attacking Donna. "What the hell are they doing back there?" he asked himself quietly and without surprise.

CJ stood and walked over next to him, still looking at the television. "When do you brief again?" They watched the television as two police officers came over to them, but they were too far out of focus to see what was going on.

He looked at his watch. "Five minutes."

"Have an answer. You know it's going to come up."

"Have an answer?" He looked up at her with near disgust on his face and then looked back at the TV. "No, 'Oh God, what if she gets hurt?' Just 'have an answer?' What the hell?" On the television, the congressman and Donna walked away from the police together, but he couldn't tell where they were going.

She looked at him, hardness in her eyes that could only come from the stress and hours of her new job. A job she hated, really, but that the President had asked her to do. A job Leo had done absolutely flawlessly, that made her feel like she was selling her soul to do even half as well as he'd done. A job that had to be done using mind only, no heart. He was telling the truth; the only thing she thought was that there needed to be an answer to the press. Even when she was press secretary, that hadn't always been her first objective. Still, that was her job, and she had to be emotionless to get it done, so she was. There were no other options. "It wasn't the focus on the camera. Maybe we'll luck out and no one will have seen it," she said, ignoring his question.

He stared at her for another few seconds and then turned to leave. As he opened the door, CJ spoke again. "See if you can get in touch with him. He needs to get out of there. He doesn't need to be seen on television restraining a woman."

"He was keeping her from going after Josh," he said quietly, still looking at the door.

"Of course, but no one else knows that. He has a candidacy to think about."

"I'm sure his candidacy's the last thing on his mind right now."

"That's going to be to his detriment," she said, picking up a file and opening it.

"See, I was thinking that's going to be to his advantage," he said before leaving.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzz**

He held her waist and elbow the entire way back to where the barricades separated the bystanders from the fighters, the families from the victims, the safe from the unsafe. He didn't look at her as they walked at a hurried pace, but his grip stayed tight, preventing her from doing something stupid. Something else stupid, he thought while shaking his head. He didn't blame her. He was pissed as hell, but he didn't blame her. It was his fault, really. He never should've brought her back there. Josh told him, warned him. "She's gonna try to get you to come back here and get me. Ignore her and get her the hell out of here." Maybe this was what he needed to see just how smart Josh was.

She kept her head high as they walked. She was a fighter, this one. Even as he wanted to strangle her with his bare hands, he wanted to applaud her. He almost laughed to himself wondering if Russell knew her loyalties were to Josh first, second…last. He wondered why she hadn't been working for them this entire time and figured they probably didn't like to mix business with their relationship.

When they got to Ned, he pulled back the barricade, letting her pass, and only then did he let go of her. He knew what he should do; what the smart thing to do would be. He needed to tell Ned to take her back to the hotel. Not that she'd voluntarily leave with him. What was he gonna do? Tie her up and gag her, then drag her kicking to the minivan. Yeah, that'd go over well.

Instead, he looked at her, at the spirit in her red, swollen eyes and found himself saying, "If you take even one step…"

"What's going on?" Ned yelled. Matt just shook his head.

"Can we go wait by the ambulances?" she yelled to him.

He shook his head. "No!" he yelled adamantly.

"Please?" she asked, new tears brimming in her eyes.

"I don't trust you," he screamed.

"I promise…"

"You promised before," he yelled, cutting her off.

She started shaking. "You don't understand!"

"I do. I know you're upset! But you've got…"

She cut him off. "No," she screamed. "How could you understand? You don't know! You don't know! It's my job! It's my job to be there! He only gets hurt when I'm not there! He needs me! I have to be there! I have to be with him! He'll be ok if I can just get to him! He's always ok when I'm there! I need to be there! Please! Please!" She begged him, crying, shaking, taking ragged breaths.

"Donna…"

"Tie me up! Hold me down! Cuff me to something! I don't care! I just…" she stopped and tried to get control of her breath. "I need to be there. I have to be."

He looked at her, then at Ned, and then back at her. Here she stood, not fifty feet from a riot, people fighting, people being killed, noise like he'd never heard before, the chaos of police and FBI running around, people being cuffed and led away, and she was only worried about only one thing in the world. He always thought he was the luckiest man in the world; it appeared Josh was a lucky man too. Still, he wondered, how did he ever say no to her?

"We're going to be on either side of you. One step, Donna. One step and I'll have them restrain you. Tell me you understand that."

Her eyes lit up with hope and she nodded. "I understand."

"Tell me you understand that Josh wants you safe."

She nodded again. "I understand Josh wants me safe," she yelled.

He took a deep breath. This was a bad idea. "Let's go," he said to both of them, holding the barricade for her once again and then taking her by the elbow and walking them over to the ambulance area, him on her left, Ned on her right.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

They'd only gone about ten feet when he felt the officer pass out, as his entire body slumped towards the ground and the gun fell out of his hand. Josh managed to lay him down without dropping him, then knelt down and looked at him.

As he sat there, he knew he didn't have the strength to carry the man, but he'd have to try. He didn't see any police officers nearby, and although he could see the top of an ambulance not too far away, it was through an angry mob of people and there was no way they'd hear him yelling for them. If he could leave the officer there and get through and to the police that had to be near that ambulance, they could come and get him.

But he couldn't and he knew it. He wasn't offering much protection to the unconscious man in the shape he was in, but leaving him alone would be like offering him up to these people as some sort of sacrifice. His mind drifted to the other officer, the one whose blood was on Josh's hands. He couldn't let that happen to this man.

He took a deep breath, wiped sweat and blood out of his eyes, and leaned over to pick him up. He took him by the shoulders and started pulling, but couldn't even lift him to a sitting up position. He rested for a minute and tried again; nothing.

Maybe he could drag him, he thought, and pushed off his knee with his hand, helping himself stand upright. He walked to the man's head and tried tugging on his shoulders, but he was too weak. He literally had no strength left in him at all.

He leaned over, propping his hands on his knees while blood from his forehead dripped onto the ground again, and noticed the walkie-talkie on the officer's belt. He'd have to call for help. But just as he reached for it, he felt something shoved into his neck and heard someone shout into his ear, "Don't move!"

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She was watching towards the pavilion, in her own world of blame and fear. She could feel his eyes on her, and she couldn't blame him for being suspicious. Trying to get to the pavilion was stupid and dangerous and everything Josh had tried to avoid. Josh…bleeding and unconscious with paramedics on their way to get him.

She thought back to Roslyn. Thought back to the thirty seven hours she spent at the hospital before going home for a shower and a change of clothes. How many times had she blamed herself that day? How many times had she told herself she should've been there? If she were there she would've kept him on track, he wouldn't have been behind the others. That was her job, and she hadn't been there to do it. And because of that, he'd gotten hurt. Because of that, he'd almost died. How many times had she told herself she'd never leave him like that again?

But she had. She'd looked him in the eyes and said, 'I quit.' She'd left him and he'd fallen behind again, not getting into the minivan when he should've. Because she wasn't there to keep him in line. And now he was hurt again. And it was her fault.

The congressman's grip tightened on her arm and she came out of the daze she was in and looked in the direction he was looking. There they were. Three police officers and two paramedics carrying a gurney with Josh on it. They were quite a distance from them, but she knew it was him, she could see his suite coat. His dark blue one, her favorite; the one that made her stomach flutter just over an hour ago when he'd breezed into the pavilion like he owned it.

She took a step forward and the congressman's grip tightened even more. She tugged on her arm a little and put an arm around her waist, holding her closely to him. "No!" he yelled in her ear.

"I just need…"

"Wait till they're closer," he yelled again.

She watched as they continued through the crowd, moving as quickly as possible through the last of the people between them and the ambulances, and she tried pulling out of the congressman's grip again. "He needs me," she yelled, trying to get loose.

"Let them work, Donna!" he yelled, and she paused. Let them work.

She stopped struggling and continued watching; standing on her tiptoes and trying to look around the officer blocking her view of Josh's face. He stopped for a second to move the barricade and she caught barely a glimpse of him, choking on her own breath as she saw nothing but blood.

"Oh my…" she trailed off and started pulling again. The congressman must've seen what she saw, must've been taken back, because he suddenly let go of her and when she started running, he didn't even try to stop her.

She ran as fast as she could, getting to the ambulance just as they pushed him inside. The paramedics jumped in with him, and she grabbed onto the door and tried to do the same, but someone grabbed her by the waist and pulled her loose from the door just as the paramedics shut it and the ambulance pulled out of the park, turned on it's sirens, and started driving down the street.

"Wait," she screamed, trying to pull herself away from the person holding her. She looked down and saw the congressman's hands around her waist and clawed at them, screaming, "Let go of me!"

He held on to her for several more seconds and then let her go, turning without even speaking to her and walked up to the police officers who had gone in to get Josh. "Excuse me," he yelled.

One of the officers looked at him. "Where did they take that man?" he asked loudly.

The officer looked at him for a moment. "Why?"

He looked back at Donna, whose head was buried in Ned's chest. "She's…we need to get to him."

The man nodded. "Skyline."

"Thank you," Matt said, turning to go.

"Sir," the man yelled, grabbing his elbow. He turned around and looked at him. "You might want to prepare her. It's bad." The officer paused and looked over at Donna before meeting Matt's eyes again. "He probably won't make it to the hospital."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

He'd never felt one before, never even held one before, but he was absolutely positive it was a gun in his neck. His heart stopped beating for a brief second, then started racing as his mind tried to process what was happening. He was frozen in a half bent over position, bleeding on the ground, in agony at the pain his stomach muscles were in, with a gun pressed tightly to his neck by someone.

He started to panic. The men in the pavilion, the ones who'd beaten the police officer. They could have his gun; it wasn't in his holster. And maybe they'd seen him in there. Or maybe they'd seen him leaving. They might kill him just so he couldn't id them. Not that he could anyway, he'd only seen them from the back and side. But they didn't know that. So they shot Officer Davidson, probably aiming for Josh, and now they were here to shoot him.

"Put your hands on your head!" the person shouted from behind him.

He did, slowly, and he felt his left arm being brought around to his back and the now familiar feel of handcuffs being placed around his wrist. His right arm was brought around next, and he wondered if he should fight. He'd never get away from them if he were handcuffed behind his back. He was barely able to move when they were cuffed in front of him earlier. But the gun being pushed even further into his neck reminded him that he was far from in charge, and however they'd gotten the police officer's things, they had them and he was the prisoner.

He wanted to shout 'I didn't see you!' but he knew that would only negate his statement. They'd never believe him. The question was, what were they going to do about it?

He heard shouting again from behind him, but this time not to him. "I've got an officer down. We're about thirty yards northeast of checkpoint. Officer is unconscious."

A police officer? He turned his head, trying to see the man who'd cuffed him. Thank God, he thought when he saw the badge and blue uniform, dismissing it immediately. Police officers today had been nothing but bad news.

"Is he breathing?" he heard the person on the other end of the walkie-talkie shout.

"I don't know," the officer shouted back.

"He just passed out," Josh yelled. "He's been shot in the leg." The officer leaned over his shoulder and looked at Officer Davidson on the ground.

"Gunshot wound to the right thigh!"

"On our way."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

Matt stared at the officer talking to him for what felt like a lifetime. He tried to speak, but he couldn't quite form words, so he just stared at him. Finally, he tore his eyes away and looked over at Donna. He stared at her for several seconds before looking back at the officer.

"Sir," the man yelled to him.

He continued staring at him, finally opening his mouth and speaking. "I…" He shook his head slightly from side to side.

"There's a large gash on his head," the man yelled.

He nodded. He remembered the gash. Remember thinking it looked bad. Remembered thinking he'd need stitches.

"When we got to him, he was unconscious in the building," he continued. "There was grey matter coming from his head."

"Grey…" he lost his voice once again. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening. He just had to wait in there until they pulled him out.

"I'm not a doctor, Sir, but the paramedics were… not all that hopeful."

He stuttered, trying to speak. "S…Skyline, r… right?"

"Yes," he shouted, nodding.

"Where… How… I… I don't know where that is," Matt managed to get out, looking back at Donna.

"Go back out to 95 north." Matt looked back at him and nodded. They'd been on I-95 three times already that day. "Take the 79th Street exit. It's six blocks down on the left."

"79th Street, six blocks," he repeated as if in a trance. "Got it. Thank you."

"Good luck," he heard the man yelled as he turned away and towards Donna.

He took a few steps, finding it hard to actually move his feet. He should've let her get in the ambulance. He should've let her say goodbye. He'd probably be dead by the time they got to the hospital and she wouldn't have gotten to say goodbye. He looked at her, wondered what the last thing they'd said was the last time they talked. He hoped it was something nice. Hoped it would be enough. Hoped she'd be able to find some comfort in it.

She told him. Told him Josh needed her. Told him Josh would be ok if she were there. He didn't really believe that, but she did, and he'd prevented her from getting to him and now Josh was going to die and she wasn't going to get to say goodbye. She'd blame him, he was sure of it and fine with it, but she'd blame herself too. He'd stayed in that park because of her. Refused to leave until she was safe, and now he was going to die.

He shook his head. Maybe it was better than she wouldn't see him like that. Grey matter, whatever that looked like, seeping from his forehead. Maybe they'd clean him up before they let her see him and she'd be able to remember him the way he was before.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and it startled him. He looked at the caller id and the first tear slipped from his eye as he saw 'Helen' on his display. He was such a lucky man. "Helen?" he choked out into the phone.

"Matt? I can't hear you."

"Helen," he said louder, desperation in his voice.

"Matt, what's going on? I just saw you on TV; did the police arrest Donna?"

"Helen, I love you so…" he trailed off, trying to keep from crying. He looked at the ground and squeezed his eyes closed.

She was quiet for a minute. "Matt, did something happen?" she asked slowly.

"Josh… it's bad."

Silence again. "How's Donna?"

He looked up at her, still being held awkwardly by Ned. "I haven't… she doesn't know yet."

"What can I do, sweetheart?"

He watched as Ned tried to console her, tried to hold her from running after an ambulance she couldn't see anymore. He didn't know how to do this. "Can you get in a cab and go to Skyline hospital? We're going there now. She might need…"

"I'm on my way."

"Thank you," he whispered.

"I love you too, you know."

He wiped his eyes. "Yeah."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

"Mike, you have news?" the President asked Mike Casper, motioning him inside the oval office where CJ, Leo and Toby stood waiting for him.

"A little Sir."

"Good news, I hope." Mike just looked at him and shook his head.

"Josh?" Toby asked.

"Yes," he said, looking away from the President and over to Toby. "Two paramedics and three police officers went into the pavilion Josh was in, where they found a bleeding, unconscious police officer. Josh wasn't there."

"What?" CJ asked, confused.

"Where is he?" the President asked.

"We don't know, Sir. The only one inside the pavilion was the officer."

"So, they're looking for Josh."

"At this point, they're clearing out the police and waiting for the riot team. They should be there in three minutes."

"But Josh will get caught up in that mess," Leo said.

Mike nodded. "Yes, probably. But at this point, it might be the best thing. They'll use tear gas and the riot will be broken up in just a few minutes. Then they can look for Josh."

"Donna's there too. So is Congressman Santos," CJ said.

"What?" the President asked loudly. "I thought he got her out of there."

"We thought so too Sir," Toby said. "But we just saw them on the news."

"For crying out loud, Toby. What the hell…"

Mike cut him off. "Donna and the Congressman are behind the barricades. A blonde woman ran into the crowd and the Congressman chased after her, but the police got them out of there."

The President nodded. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" Leo mumbled.

"As far as they know, Josh is ok?" Toby asked quietly.

Agent Casper looked at the ground and then back up at Toby. "The police officer was badly injured. They don't expect him to make it to the hospital. If Josh was involved in whatever took place in there, he could be injured."

"Josh would never hurt a police officer," the President spit out.

"No Sir, but whoever did that to the officer…"

"Might have done the same to Josh," CJ replied quietly.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She felt his arm on her shoulder and jerked away from him, furious that he'd kept her from getting into the ambulance. Ned let go of her and she looked up, wondering if he'd been holding her for comfort or to just keep her from running away.

"How is he?"

He was quiet for a few seconds before answering. "I didn't talk to a paramedic, just an officer. He didn't have details. We'll find out more at the hospital," he yelled over the noise.

"Was he conscious at all?"

He shook his head. "No."

She wiped her eyes and looked hard at him. "What aren't you telling me?"

He ignored her question. "We need to go to the hospital. They gave me directions."

Without waiting, she started walking quickly back towards the street the minivan was parked on. After about ten feet, she broke out into a jog, and didn't look back until she was standing by the familiar side door.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

They stood there waiting for paramedics to come get Officer Davidson. The other officer, the one who currently had Josh handcuffed, didn't say a word to him. He just stood behind him, one hand on the cuffs, and one hand on his shoulder. His head was killing him. He longed to be locked in the bathroom in the pavilion again where the noise was quieter and his t-shirt was tied around his head, relieving some of the pressure. Now his stomach had a sharp pain and his back ached as he had to arch it a bit due to his hands being behind his back. At least the guy had put the gun away, Josh thought to himself.

The paramedics arrived about two minutes later and checked for a pulse before looking at the man's leg. Josh watched as they ripped his pants leg apart where the hole was and bared the bullet wound to look at it. He'd never seen one… open before. Sure, he'd seen them in the movies and on television, but never a real one. He'd only seen his own, in the mirror in his bathroom three weeks after the shooting and countless times since, but by then it had been closed, the bandages had long since been discarded, the stitches had been removed, there hadn't been any blood. Just a small pink spot about the size of a nickel that was raised and sensitive to the touch.

Donna had seen it when it was worse, of course. Once he was stable enough to not need constant in-home care, a nurse had taught her how to change his bandages and check for infection while he'd stared at the ceiling horrified, fighting off tears of embarrassment. And later that night she'd done it alone. She'd come into his room, told him unceremoniously to roll onto his other side, and she'd changed it while talking to him about one of his favorite things in the world, the Mets. She'd asked about the duties of the short stop, and although he was positive she knew them, he'd been relieved to not have to focus on being so helpless in front of her, his assistant and the woman he'd had more than one sexual fantasy about. When she'd moved on to the larger more complex bandage across his chest, she'd asked him about the baulking rule and why National League pitchers had to bat when the American League pitchers didn't and what they did about that during the World Series, and he'd explained it to her as he watched her eyes show acceptance instead of disgust or pity while she carefully put the cream and then the clean bandage on his chest. Looking back, that might have been the night he fell in love with her.

The walkie-talkie beeped and he heard someone on the other end yelling calmly into it. "Everyone out of there now. The riot team's here. I repeat; cease and move out now."

The officer shouted down to the paramedics who couldn't have possibly heard the announcement over the surrounding noise. "We have to hurry. The riot team's here!" he yelled, still holding Josh firmly.

The paramedics looked at him and nodded, then lifted Officer Davidson carefully to the gurney, paying special attention to his leg. Once he was on it, they picked it up and the five of them made their way towards the ambulance area at a quick pace. Josh, in pain and total exhaustion, had trouble keeping up, but the officer behind him showed no mercy, shoving him ahead when he started to slow down.

**zzzzzzzzzzzz**

He thought it felt like deja-vu. They'd been in this minivan twice together already today. And like the other times, she was quiet. Like the other times, she stared out the window. Like the other times, he felt responsible for her, as though Josh had left her in his care. But unlike the other times, it didn't feel temporary.

He had no delusions. She was an adult. It wasn't as if Josh would've expected him to take Donna in, adopt her, feed and clothe her. If there was a funeral in a few days, he most assuredly wouldn't be the person Josh would expect to be there sitting in the family row with her. They must have friends together. Friends who knew them as a couple; and those would be the people who would be there for her. To hold her hand, he suspected, not hold her up.

And given the choice, he was sure she would pick anyone but him. This man she'd only known for an hour and fifteen minutes, who'd tried, and failed, to control her the entire time, who took her away from the one place she wanted to be, then kept her from going to the man she loved not once, but twice. No, she wouldn't want him to be the one holding her hand.

But he still felt responsible for her. She was several states away from those who knew best how to help her. It would have to be him; he would be the one standing next to her when she found out Josh was dead. He, and possibly Helen, would be the only ones she'd have to lean on, if she chose to lean at all. Suddenly, he felt inadequate, and he couldn't help sighing at the irony of it. Why was Josh Lyman always signing him up for things he was unqualified to do?

"What did he say exactly?" she asked in a far away voice from the back seat.

He looked at her and paused before speaking. She'd already asked him twice. "It was hard to hear him."

"Well," she spit out. "What did you hear?"

He smiled softly at her, even as she snapped at him. But he would take it, every thing she had to dish out at him, regardless of how bad it got. That was part of the deal. Part of the 'Get her out of here. She's gonna try to get you to come back here and get me. Ignore her and get her the hell out of here' Josh had shouted to him just over an hour ago. An hour ago, when he'd told Josh to sit tight and they'd get him out of there.

He wondered if he should tell her what the officer said to him. Wondered again, really. In the five minutes since he'd spoken to the man about Josh's condition, about the grey matter, about the fact that Josh probably wouldn't make it to the hospital, he'd second and third and tenth guessed himself. Should he tell her, prepare her as the officer had put it? Tell her while she sat alone in the backseat of a minivan while they drove 80 miles an hour down the highway? He dismissed it again. He couldn't tell her like that, not when there was no one there to… console her.

"He said Josh was unconscious. He said he had a head wound. He told me where they were taking him, and he gave me directions," he said again.

She finally looked away from the window and caught his eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Nothing else?"

He shook his head. The officer could've been wrong anyway. Maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe it wasn't grey matter. Maybe grey matter wasn't as bad as it sounded. Maybe he'd make it after all.

But was that really what was keeping him from telling her? Or was he being a coward? He'd stopped her from getting to Josh and now if he told her he wasn't going to make it… he couldn't even imagine the way she'd react to that. He was prepared to be blamed by her, but being the one to tell her? Maybe it was too much. Maybe he wasn't brave enough for that.

"I'd know what was going on right now if I'd gotten in the ambulance," she mumbled, looking back out the window.

"I know. I'm sorry. Maybe I should've let you get in. I was just trying…" he trailed off. She didn't need his excuses. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"Can you go faster," she asked, still looking out the window.

"I'm going 80," he replied quietly.

She turned and looked at him again. "Then go 90."

He nodded once and stepped on the accelerator.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

"Call me as soon as it's done…. Yeah, thanks." He hung up and looked around. The President, Toby, Leo, and CJ Cregg were all in the oval office with him staring at him as though he had all the answers in the world. In this case, he wished he did.

"What do we know, Mike?" asked the President.

He took a deep breath. "That was the officer in charge at the scene. The riot team's arrived. This should be over in five minutes."

"And Josh?" Leo asked.

He shook his head and looked down a little. "They haven't found Josh."

It was quiet for several seconds while they each took in his words. "What will the riot team do, exactly," CJ asked quietly.

He turned towards her. "They're clearing out the police now. Apparently one was shot in the leg, but paramedics got to him. Once he's in an ambulance, they'll give it another minute, and then they'll throw eight to ten tear gas grenades into the crowd. At that point, it should disperse quickly. Most people will disengage fighting and run, they'll be taken into custody as they cross the barricades. 90 of those that don't run will be unconscious within 60 seconds, and the police will go back in wearing masks."

"But the tear gas isn't dangerous, right?" she asked.

He shrugged. "That's depends on who you ask. There are groups, I'm sure you're aware of them, who say tear gas is dangerous. You know many if not most countries refuse to use it. But if you're asking my opinion," he looked at her and she nodded. "It's not dangerous. They should've used it an hour ago."

Toby cleared his throat. "How will they get Josh, once they've used the tear gas. How will they find him?"

"Well, not to sound stereotypical, but Josh will be one of the few Caucasians there. That'll make it easier. They know they're looking for him too; it's just going to be a matter of time before they find him. But it could be a while. There are still several hundred people in the riot zone."

"What's the death count at, Mike," Leo asked.

"Sixteen, but they expect that number to go up once they get in there."

"But as far as they know," the President asked. "Josh…"

"No Sir. Josh isn't one of the sixteen."

He nodded. "Thanks Mike."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

They were taken directly to an ambulance, where the paramedics lifted officer Davidson inside. Once they had him safely in, one of them turned to look at Josh's head. He took off the gloves he'd used on the officer and carefully put his hand in Josh's hair, pulling back on the large gash. "Any other injuries?" he asked him loudly.

"My back and stomach hurt," he yelled back, wincing as the paramedic touched the bone under his right eye and then the bridge of his nose.

"We'll take him too," he said, looking behind Josh at the officer still holding onto him.

The officer nodded and gave Josh a little push towards the ambulance. He tried to take a large step into the ambulance, but couldn't lift his leg high enough, and without the use of his hands to help him, he tumbled backwards and the officer caught him before he fell.

"Can you take those off?" the paramedic asked, nodding towards the handcuffs.

"Absolutely not," the officer shouted, pushing Josh towards the ambulance again. This time, Josh lifted one foot onto the platform and the paramedic took him by the shoulders and pulled him inside as the officer pushed on him from the back. "I'll ride in front," the officer shouted, jogging around to the passenger side of the ambulance.

The paramedic helped Josh sit down on the small bench in the ambulance and turned to shut the back doors. Then he pounded on the wall and the ambulance started moving. Even with the sirens on, the noise was considerably quieter and he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes for just a second, taking a deep breath. He was safe.

He opened his eyes a minute later and looked around. The ambulance was small. And with both paramedics, the unconscious officer and himself inside, it felt even smaller. He watched as one of the paramedics started an IV and then gave the officer a shot of something near the bullet wound on his leg. "He gonna be ok?" he asked quietly, thankful that he didn't have to yell.

"He'll be up around in crutches in no time," the paramedic closest to him answered. "Now, let's take a look at you."

Josh winced again and turned his head as the paramedic, in new gloves, started poking around on his face. "I need to make a phone call."

"Later. This is a pretty bad gash you've got here."

"My phone's in my pocket. Can you just hit 1 and then talk and hold it up to my ear?"

"Let me take care of this first," the paramedic said distractedly, pulling something out of a box in the corner. "I'm gonna irrigate it so I can get a better look at it."

Josh jerked his head away. "No. I need to make the call first. You don't understand; she's got to be worried sick. I didn't pick up when she called. I always…" he trailed off as the paramedic looked at him. "I heard them say the riot team was going in. She's… please just let me call her and then you can do whatever you want."

The paramedic looked at him for several seconds. "I'm not supposed…" Josh gave him a pleading look and he sighed. "What pocket?"


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

She pulled herself out of her reverie and looked up as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. He passed the emergency room entrance and slowed down to look for a spot nearby to park, and then he heard the back door sliding open. He turned just as Donna jumped out of the minivan and ran full speed towards the hospital.

"Donna, wait!" he yelled, but she was already around the minivan and heading for the automatic doors into the emergency room.

He shook his head. He couldn't let her be standing there alone, afraid and helpless when… if some doctor, some nurse told her Josh was dead. He had to be there, whether she'd want him there or not. He'd told him he'd protect her, and he would.

He threw the minivan into park and opened his door. "Park," he shouted to Ned as he ran after her, again.

He followed her inside to the information desk and she ignored him, speaking to a young woman who was on the phone. "I need information on someone brought in from the riot."

The woman looked up at Donna and held a finger up, motioning for her to wait a minute, then focused on the call again.

"No," Donna said, interrupting her again. "This is an emergency."

The woman looked displeased as she looked at Donna again and covered the phone with her hand. "This is an emergency room. Every case is an emergency. Please wait quietly."

"Donna, just give her a minute," he said quietly, touching her elbow, which she ripped out of his hand.

"I don't care about the other emergencies," she said frantically to the woman.

"Well I do," the nurse said pointedly, looking at Donna for another few seconds before uncovering the phone and continuing with the phone call.

He looked around and saw a nurse walking towards the seating area with a clipboard in her hands and walked up to her quickly. "Excuse me."

The woman looked up and smiled. "Yes?"

"We need information about someone brought in from the riot," Donna said, hurrying up behind him.

"Sure," the nurse said politely. "The information desk is right there; they can help," she said, pointing to the desk they'd just come from.

"No," she said shaking her head. "She's on the phone. She won't tell me anything. I need to know now. I have to know now. Right now. I can't wait. Please," she pleaded, tears starting to slip down her cheeks.

The woman looked to Matt and then back to Donna, putting her hand on Donna's shoulder. "Ok," she said in a comforting voice. "Let's see what we can find out."

He watched Donna take a deep shaky breath. "Thank you, Anna," she said, looking at the woman's name tag.

The three of them walked back to the information desk and Anna started typing into a computer. "What's the patient's name?"

"Joshua Lyman, and he would've just come in. We were only a few minutes behind them," he said to her.

The nurse continued typing, then turned around and looked through more files like the one she'd been holding when he saw her. Finally, she turned back to them. "I don't have a Joshua Lyman here."

Donna's eyes got huge and she all but screamed, "They said they were bringing him here! They said Skyline. This is Skyline, isn't it?"

Matt and the nurse both looked at her and Matt wondered if this was it. If she was finally going to lose it. After the hour and a half she'd had, he wouldn't be shocked, and he certainly wouldn't think any less of her. He might want to lock her up, but he couldn't deny being impressed with her passion and determination.

"Yes, this is Skyline," Anna answered in a soothing voice. "He's probably just not in the system yet. Sometimes it takes a few minutes to get the information plugged into the computer. Let me go back into the exam area and see what I can find out."

"Now? Can you find out now?" Donna asked, near hysterics.

The woman nodded and walked around to her from behind the desk. "Why don't you two go sit down and I'll come right out and tell you what I find."

Donna shook her head. "I'll come with you."

She shook her head and smiled. "You can't go back there."

"But…."

"You can't. I'm sorry."

Anna looked at Matt and he turned to Donna, quietly. "We're wasting time. Let her go check."

She looked at the floor, but after a few seconds, nodded. Then she looked back up at Anna. "We'll wait right here. You'll hurry?"

"I'm going right now."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

He leaned over on his right hip as much as possible so the paramedic could reach into this left front pocket for his phone. The man pulled it out and looked at it. "It's off," he said.

"Off?" he asked. The paramedic showed him the black display panel, and Josh frowned. He'd felt the phone vibrate three separate times; when did the phone switch off? "Umm… ok. Just hold the 'end' button down and it'll turn back on."

The paramedic nodded and held the button down. The phone played music as the power came on, but the music was distorted and the phone immediately went black again. He held the 'end' button down again and the same thing happened. "It's not working."

Josh hung his head. He'd been knocked to the ground and kicked repeatedly, and then he'd fallen when Officer Davidson was shot. Apparently the phone didn't make it. A second later his head snapped up. "Do you have one I can borrow?"

The paramedic shook his head. "We don't bring them on our shifts. It's against policy. Sorry."

He sighed and nodding slightly. "I'll call her from the hospital. She…worries…about me."

The man smiled at him. "Nice, isn't it?" Josh looked at him for a second before nodding and smiling back. "Now…can I take a look at this cut?"

"Yeah," Josh said, preparing himself for the pain. The paramedic leaned in close to him and he felt some liquid on his head that stung worse than anything had up until that point, making him grit his teeth, squeeze his eyes shut, clench his fists and suck in breath.

"It's deep," the paramedic said, sitting up and looking at him. "All this blood yours?" he asked.

Josh shook his head. "No, some of it's his," he said, nodding towards Officer Davidson. "And some of it… there was another officer. He was in the pavilion. He was bleeding… badly. Some of it's his."

The paramedic leaned in close to him again and started poking around his face. "Make sure you tell them that at the hospital. They'll give you some antibiotics to prevent HIV and hepatitis."

Josh's eyes got huge and he thought he might be sick again. "Do you…" he trailed off.

"It's unlikely, but as cut up as you are, you'll want to be safe," he said. Josh continued staring at him. "I don't think it's anything to worry about, really. You can request that they test the officers, if you can find them both."

Josh nodded reluctantly. "Ok."

"Now, some bad news. Your nose is broken, you're going to need stitches for this cut, and you've got an awfully ugly black eye forming there."

"I figured."

"You said your stomach and back hurt?"

"Someone knocked me to the ground and kicked the hell out of me for a minute or two."

"That sounds fun. Any blood coming up in your mouth?"

He shook his head, but then stopped and looked at the man. "I'm not really sure," he finally said. "I've been spitting blood, but I figured it was dripping down my face from the cut."

"You could have some internal bleeding. I'm gonna unbutton your shirt, see what I can see."

Josh nodded and leaned his head back as the paramedic unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it as far down his arms as he could with the cuffs on. "Right here?" he asked, pressing on his side, making Josh jump.

"Fuck!"

"So, yes?"

"Yeah," he gritted out. "Right there."

"Lean forward," the paramedic said to him. He did, and flinched when he pressed on his back slightly.

"And there?"

"Yeah," came out more like a grunt than a word.

He helped Josh lean back again and buttoned a few of the buttons on his shirt. "I'd guess a few cracked ribs and possibly a bruised kidney. There might be some internal bleeding."

"Internal bleeding?" he asked, panic threatening to rise in his voice.

"They'll run some tests. If there is, it isn't bad or you'd be unconscious by now. We're gonna be there in five minutes, let's wait on the doctors for that."

Josh closed his eyes and nodded. "I'm supposed to have dinner with someone tonight."

The paramedic chuckled and went back to work on Josh's face. "Hope they like hospital food."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

They stood directly next to the information desk and waited for the nurse, Anna, to come back and talk to them. Ned was with them now, but she was still pretty much ignoring their existence. She just kept thinking she'd know what happened if she'd gotten on the ambulance, and she wasn't even pretending to not be angry about that.

She tried to take a deep breath. She needed to calm down and she knew it. She was acting irrational, a totally different Donna than she'd been when he was shot and she waited patiently and quietly in the hospital waiting room without yelling at nurses and shooting looks of death at the people she waited with. She was supposed to be wiser, older, and more mature now, so why was she nearing the edge of reason? She couldn't help wondering what it was about this day that was different than the last time.

Was it knowledge, she wondered. Last time she knew what was happening. They were able to explain exactly what was going on; she hadn't been left wondering, her mind jumping to the worst conclusions. Maybe she'd be calm once she knew what was going on.

Or was it that she'd been with friends last time? Mrs. Landingham holding her hand, Mrs. Bartlet sitting next to her. She still remembered CJ's hand on her shoulder and the presence of Sam and Toby. These men were not her friends and she doubted they were all that close with Josh. Maybe that's why she wasn't keeping it together as well.

Of course, she thought, there was another option. Maybe she just loved him more now than she did then. Maybe the thought of living without him for the rest of her life scared her so much that remaining calm simply wasn't an option. She'd been living without him for three months, and she knew there was no way she'd be able to do that for the rest of her life. She never thought she could love him more than she did then, but maybe that was it. Maybe now she loved him that much more.

Anna walked through the double doors and up to the three of them. "How is he?" she asked, surprised at how on edge her voice sounded.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I simply haven't been able to find anything out. We don't have any patients here by that name."

"But…they…they told us they were bringing him here," she said, grasping at straws.

"Is it possible he didn't have id with him or that he wouldn't be able to tell them his name? We have a few patients we haven't been able to id yet."

"Yes," she said quickly, her voice once again scaring her as well as Matt and Ned. "He was unconscious." She looked at Matt. "He was unconscious, right? Maybe he didn't have id on him. Maybe they left his jacket in the ambulance."

He looked at her and nodded. "Yeah, maybe," he said, trying to give her some amount of hope.

Anna nodded and moved back behind the desk to the computer. "Do you know what any of his injuries are?"

"His head," Matt said quietly, biting his lower lip and looking down at the desk.

"Head wound," she repeated while scrolling through the emergency room admits. "Gun shot, stabbing, choking…I'm not seeing a head wound in the ER," she said looking back up at them. "Do you have anything else we could go on?"

"That's all we know," Donna said. "Can I just go back and look around for him? I'll be quiet and I won't get in the way at all, I swear. You can stay with me the…"

"Grey matter," Matt said quietly, interrupting her.

"What?" Donna nearly screamed snapping her head in his direction.

"A police officer on the scene told me there was…grey matter," he choked out, looking at Donna. "They… they didn't expect him to…" he trailed off and looked up at Anna. "Maybe you should…"

She nodded and tried to give him a small smile. "I didn't check that list, I'll be right back," she said quietly. She looked at Donna for a few seconds before turning and walking away.

Matt watched her leave and then looked at a very pale Donna. Her eyes were eerily dry and were opened wide and she stood rooted to her place in the small room. "Donna," he said softly.

She didn't turn or acknowledge him at all and he tried again, this time putting his hand on her shoulder. "Donna."

This time she turned to face him, slowly, and she looked up into his eyes. "You're lying," she said calmly.

He shook his head. "No."

"Yes you are."

"Donna..." he said quietly.

"You knew and you didn't tell me?" she said, starting softly but screaming by the end of the sentence, hitting him hard in the chest with her fist while tears pooled in her eyes but refused to fall. "You knew!" she screamed again, hitting him again. "You son of a bitch!"

She continued screaming, accusing him, hitting him over and over in the chest as he tried to pull her arms down to her side without hurting her. He finally got control of her and pulled her to his chest where she kept screaming "I hate you!" and "You're lying!" over and over into his shirt until her voice was hoarse and she lost the strength to fight him. Then she felt a warm hand on her shoulder and he let his grip on her loosen as she picked up her head.

She stood slightly and turned around, red-faced and shaking uncontrollably and Helen Santos stood quietly. The hand she had on Donna's shoulder traveled down her arm and to her hand, and she pulled Donna into her arms, where she buried her face in the woman's shoulder and tears finally started to fall.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

She barely registered the feeling of Helen's arms around her as she stood mumbling and crying into her shoulder. She could tell she was lightheaded, could tell she was swaying a little as they stood there, could hear Helen and the congressman talking quietly to each other and was sure it was about her, but she couldn't concentrate enough to tell what they were saying.

Grey matter. The words played over and over in her head as if they told the future story of her life. Grey matter, there will be a funeral in a few days. Grey matter, you'll never tell him. Grey matter, you'll never even have kissed him. Grey matter, you blew your chance. You were given so many over the years and you blew every one of them. Grey matter, you'll be alone for the rest of your life. Grey matter, you'll never be a mother. Grey matter, you're never going to smile again. Grey matter, you've lost the only man you've ever really loved. Grey matter, it's all your fault.

"Donna," Helen said quietly, and she stood upright and looked at her. "Why don't we go sit down?"

She could feel her head slowly going back and forth, but still couldn't quite register that she was the one making it happen.

"Donna, there're some chairs right over here," Matt said. "And Ned and I will wait right here by the desk for the nurse." She looked at him and tilted her head a little, then looked over at three chairs ten feet or so from the information desk.

"Come on, Donna," Helen said. "Let's sit right here and wait." She could tell her feet were moving, but wasn't quite sure how, and Helen walked her slowly to the chairs and sat her down in the middle of the three. A moment later, she felt Helen's hand on her back, slowly rubbing it in soft circles.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

When the ambulance pulled up to the hospital emergency room door, the paramedic who'd been working on Josh looked at him and asked, "You need a gurney or a wheel chair?"

Josh shook his head. "I can walk. Get him in there first," he said, nodding towards Officer Davidson.

He nodded. "He'll be fine."

The doors opened and the other paramedic and the driver pulled Officer Davidson, still unconscious, out of the ambulance and started wheeling him inside while Josh's paramedic waited back with him.

He helped Josh stand, holding gauze to the cut on his forehead, and helped him out of the ambulance by holding his shoulder. The police officer who'd last cuffed him stood below and took him by the arm so he didn't fall.

"Now that it's quiet, I need to advise you that you're not under arrest, but you are being detained for questioning in the shooting of Officer Michael Davidson," the officer told him roughly.

"I didn't shoot him, he'll tell you," he said as the paramedic started walking with him, still holding the gauze to his head.

"Let's get him checked out. Then you can get a statement from him," the paramedic said to the officer, who nodded.

"I need to make a phone call," Josh said as they walked.

"I know," the paramedic said chuckling. "She worries."

"Yeah," Josh said, smiling.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

"Toby," they shouted as he walked to the podium.

"Shut-up," he said casually as he looked over his notes. Then he looked up and spoke. "At 2:14 eastern this afternoon, the Miami police riot team threw nine tear gas grenades into the riot in Miami. Three minutes later, they took control of the crowd."

"Toby!" they began shouting again.

"Ben."

"What's the death toll?"

He looked at his notes. "26, although that number's expected to be closer to fifty when this is all said and done. Mark."

"Toby, are there any police or FBI dead or injured at this point?"

Toby nodded. "One police officer died in route to the hospital after suffering massive head wounds. Two others were shot and are being treated at local hospitals. Their names aren't being released at this time. Katie?"

"Why wasn't the riot team deployed immediately?"

"That's a good question Katie. In fact, that's what the President asked the Mayor of Miami when he spoke with him just minutes before they finally were deployed. Jeff."

"What about the rumors that Josh Lyman was trapped in a building in the park during the riot? Is that true and is he alright?"

"We're not releasing the names of anyone involved in or injured during the riot at this time. That's all I have for now. Stay close for updates," he said before turning and walking off the podium.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She sat in the hard, cold plastic chair in the waiting room, her hand on Donna's back, and looked up to see her husband looking at her. She smiled and he smiled back, a soft but genuine smile, and she could see in his eyes that he wanted to hold her. To tell her he loved her, that he always would, that she was everything to him. Her eyes glistened as she nodded and mouthed, 'I love you too', and his smile got a little bigger as he nodded back. There would be time to thank God later that it wasn't them. Right now, they needed to focus on Donna and Josh.

She didn't know exactly what had happened. Matt told her on the phone it was bad, but not how bad. She guessed by how hard Donna was shaking and sobbing and by the look in Ned and Matt's eyes that Josh didn't make it. She wondered what happened. It hadn't been quite an hour and a half since the whole thing started, and she thought about how quickly things change. How just this morning, she and Matt fought over the last of the grape jelly at the Waffle House near the hotel until Josh had finally waived the waitress over and asked for more and a third cup of coffee for himself. That seemed like a lifetime ago now.

"He's never gonna know," she heard Donna say to herself a minute later.

"What?" Helen asked her. She watched as Donna seemed to focus, turn and look at her. She was in absolute agony. It was in her eyes, in the redness in her face, the way her voice and hands were shaking, and in the way she took ragged breaths and choked on her words.

"I never told him. I meant to a hundred different times, but I never did. Never." The tears started falling again and Helen handed her a tissue.

"Told him what, Donna?" she asked softly, still rubbing her back.

Donna turned her head again, staring at the information desk, then looked down at the wadded up tissue in her hands. "I was so stubborn," she said quietly. "I waited year after year for him to tell me. For him to say it first." She stopped and looked at Helen. "Why did I care? Why did it matter to me who said it first? Why did I do that? Now he'll never say it, he'll never hear me say it, and it's my fault. Why would I do that?"

She took her hand off Donna's back and covered the hand that lay on her lap. "Donna, sweetheart, what didn't you say?"

Donna looked at her for several seconds and then looked over at the door Anna had walked through. "I love him," came out as barely a whisper.

"Of course you do."

She was quiet for a minute, then finally said, "I've never said that out loud. Not to my best friend, my mom, certainly not to Amy Gardner, never…" she choked on a tear and wiped at her eyes. "Never to him. Why didn't I ever tell him?"

Helen sat stunned for a minute. They'd never told each other how they felt? It seemed completely obvious to her that they were in love. And not only love, but a deep long real love, not something new, but something developed and lasting. She'd seen it in Josh's refusal to leave and in Donna's reaction to the fact that he was there. Of course they were in love. "Do you know he loves you?"

She turned then and looked at Helen. "I used to."

"You used to?"

"I… we… we messed us up. I…" she stopped and looked away again. "I haven't been so sure lately."

Helen squeezed her hand.

"What if he wasn't so sure lately? What if he needed to hear me say it? What if he… and he doesn't know?"

"Donna, I just met you. Just two hours ago, and I knew. Just like I knew that he loves you. I'm sure he knows. Of course he knows."

"But I never told him. Eight years and I never told him. He deserved to know and I never said it."

"Then you'll tell him."

"But… he…"

She pulled Donna to her and she rested her head on Helen's shoulder. "You'll tell him. It doesn't matter. You'll tell him and he'll know."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

They walked into the emergency room just as Officer Davidson was wheeled into an examining room. Josh watched him go and hoped he'd be ok. Not that he hadn't wanted that before, but it would be helpful if he woke up and told everyone Josh didn't shoot him. He heard the officer with him talking to a nurse, telling her he should be notified immediately if he were to wake-up.

Josh looked around the emergency room at doctors and nurses coming and going from different areas separated by curtains. A young woman who reminded him of Zoey came up to them and the paramedic began spouting off information.

"White male, 42 years old, blood pressure 138 over 81, pulse 97, laceration to the head, bruises on the right side near the ribs and the right lower back near the kidney. Possible broken nose and cracked ribs. I irrigated the lacerations on his head and gave him ibuprofen, but no other medication. Also, patient's been exposed to blood of two strangers."

He heard a nurse close to him talking to the morgue, and wondered how the first police officer he'd encountered was doing. He hoped they found him, and that they found him in time. He closed his eyes and could feel the man's blood and something else, something glossy, on his hands, and he felt queasy again. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath. His stomach was too weak, he couldn't get sick now.

The paramedic put his hand on Josh's shoulder and nodded before walking back towards the doors, and Josh nodded back and smiled gratefully.

"Well, this looks pretty ugly," the young woman said smiling, looking at the cut on his head.

"I need to make a phone call," he said, wincing as she pulled on the skin near his cut.

"I need a little more information from you and then we'll see what we can do about that. Now, what's your name?"

"Josh Lyman. Can't we do this after I…"

"What did you say your name was?" the nurse who'd been on the phone asked, turning around and cutting him off.

He looked at her. "Josh Lyman. Can I use your phone please?"

"Josh Lyman?" she asked him.

"Yes. Please, I need to make a phone call."

The nurse smiled. "Come with me," she said, taking him by the shoulder and walking towards a set of doors. Finally, he thought.

She took him to the doors and pushed one open, smiling and pointing to Donna, sitting with her head on Helen Santos' shoulder, swollen eyes and dried tears on her red cheeks. He thought she'd never looked more beautiful.

"Someone's looking for you," the nurse said quietly.

He nodded, still looking at Donna, while tears pooled in his own eyes, and took a step into the waiting area.

Hearing the door close, Donna looked up. It took her just a second to realize it was Josh looking at her, watching her the way he had in Germany. Her breath caught and she smiled and started crying again, pushing herself up slowly to a standing position and staring back at him.

"Hi," he said quietly, rooted to his spot.

"Hi yourself," she whispered through her tears.

"You're supposed to be at the hotel waiting for me," he said, smiling slightly.

She looked down at the ground and crying became sobbing. Finally she looked back at him. "I don't want to be where you're not anymore."

He nodded and stared at her for a few seconds before walking slowly her way. There was only fifteen feet between them, but it felt like miles and she started walking too, meeting him half way and carefully putting her arms around his neck. When she pulled him close to her, he buried his head in her hair and inhaled the smell of her.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

She didn't mean to stare, but she couldn't quite help it. The way Donna was clinging to him, the way he, bloodied and battered, continued sinking further into her body, as if she alone could cure him, could hold him up. He was whispering something in her ear, and she was shaking and nodding and squeezing him tighter, but Helen couldn't hear what he was saying.

She glanced around and noticed that everyone in the small room was watching them, including Ned and Matt, who started to take a few steps in their direction. She hopped out of her seat and jogged up to him, hugging him around the waist and keeping him from going to them. He looked down at her and she smiled, shaking her head no, hugging him tighter, and he reached around her back and held her close to him, leaning down and kissing the top of her head.

She saw a nurse standing nearby, the one they'd been talking to when she walked in. She wondered how long the woman would let them stand there like that before she yanked him back into an examining room. Still, she was grateful she'd let him come out here at all, and she was sure Josh and Donna were too. She still didn't know exactly what was going on or why Donna, Matt, and Ned had looked so upset before, Donna seemed certain Josh was going to die, but she'd ask about that later when everything had calmed down. He was here, and although he looked pretty bad, he was walking and breathing and conscious, so that was enough for now.

His face was worse than when they'd seen him last, she was sure of it. But she smiled as she watched him bury it in Donna's shoulder. It had to hurt, but she doubted he even noticed. When they'd left him in the pavilion, he'd had that cut on his head, but it looked worse now. It was still bleeding, although not as badly, and it looked like it had pulled apart further, showing more of the white fatty material around the edges.

But there was more. His right eye was swollen and red, already starting to turn into a dark purple color. His nose was bloody, although no longer bleeding, and there was a fairly substantial cut on his left cheek. And although she couldn't see his shirt now, the way his body was pressed so closely to Donna's, she'd seen it when he walked in, and it was pretty much covered in blood. Falling off that stage hadn't been the only thing that happened to him in the last hour and a half.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She clung to him for life, as if holding on was the only thing keeping her standing and breathing. He could feel her hair against his cheek and her breath and tears on his neck as they stood there like the only two people in the world, and suddenly, the pain in his stomach and back disappeared and Donna was the only thing there.

He wanted so badly to put his arms around her and pull her even closer to him, to never let her go, but his hands were still cuffed, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered when the police officer would come barreling in and break up the most amazing moment of his life. He put the thought out of his head and concentrated on the smell of her and the feel of her hand in his hair. He'd missed her smell, the peach lotion she wore against her clean pale skin. He'd spent countless nights recently trying to remember just how it smelled, but his memories hadn't compared to the reality of her here, wrapped around him.

Her breathing was ragged and wasn't getting any better. As if she'd been holding it in and now she was letting go. He turned his head just a little, in towards her ear. "Shh… it's alright. I'm fine," he whispered. He felt her nod against him, but she continued sobbing and shaking into him and again he wished he could put his arms around her and hold her.

He whispered again. "I promised I'd be alright, didn't I?" She nodded again and he smiled in spite of himself. He hated that she was upset, but loved that she cared this much, and he figured this was just one of the many reasons he didn't deserve her. But this was it. Whether he deserved her or not, he had to have her. Had to be with her. There was no way he couldn't any longer. He'd lost her twice now. When she came back to him the first time, he'd been relieved. He felt lighter, younger, like skipping through the make-shift office he'd had in Iowa that week during the first campaign. He never stopped to think about it, to wonder why it was that her returning made him so happy when just the day before, Mandy had come into town and he'd kissed her on the cheek and left for his next meeting without a second thought. But now…this time… he knew. He was a different man with her next to him. A better man, a contented man, a happier man. He couldn't let her go again; he'd never live through it. He'd been a coward before, but this time he'd tell her.

She pulled back just a little, so she could see his face and he smiled at her, which made his eye hurt even worse. She brought one of her hands up to his face, tracing but not quite touching the injuries there, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe the tears on her face away with his thumbs. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her forehead. "It's not as bad as it looks," he whispered.

"I was so scared," she choked out, and he kissed her forehead again.

"I know."

"They carried you out on that stretcher and then they said…" she stopped, choking on her words. "They said… there was…"

"Shh…it's ok. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere without you."

"Promise?" She asked quietly, calming down a little.

He smiled again and nodded at her, but then something hit him. "They carried me out on a stretcher?"

She nodded and started rambling. "And you were unconscious. I tried to get to you, to ride in the ambulance with you, but I couldn't get to you and they left, and we didn't know what was going on and then they said…" she trailed off again, crying harder.

"Shh…" he said again before looking up at Matt with a mixture of anger that he'd taken her back there and gratefulness that he'd taken care of her.

"I tried to get to you," she mumbled again into his neck. "He wouldn't let me get to you."

"Good," he whispered, nodding at Matt, gratefulness winning out.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

He'd been worried for a few seconds when Josh looked up at him. The look he gave him was one he'd thankfully never gotten from him before. He'd seen him use it on others; Will Bailey, a few volunteers, but never on him, and he admitted to himself it was an unsettling look. No wonder he was the one they sent to the Hill all those years. He kept his eyes focused on Josh, though, willing to accept it if he was angry with him for taking Donna back to that park where she could've gotten hurt. He certainly would've been angry with him if he'd taken Helen back there. In fact, angry wouldn't have been a strong enough word to describe it.

He couldn't hear what they were saying, but then Josh nodded at him and he smiled and nodded back, unconsciously squeezing Helen tighter to his side. He looked at Donna, her head buried in Josh's neck, and could tell she was still crying, but all in all, she was much calmer than she'd been even two minutes earlier, and for that he was grateful.

He watched them for a few moments until he noticed a police officer talking with the nurse, Anna, in the doorway to the emergency room. The officer looked upset about something, and walked impatiently up to Josh, the nurse following behind him.

Josh startled as the officer took hold of his elbow, and turned him around to face him, and for the first time, Matt noticed he was handcuffed. Without pause, he walked the few steps to where Josh and Donna were.

"You need to stay with me," he heard the officer say bitterly to Josh.

"What's going on?" Donna asked, obviously just realizing herself that Josh was cuffed, the edge of panic back in her voice.

Josh looked back at her. "It's fine. An officer was shot and I'm being detained for questioning."

"Detained for questioning?" she practically screamed, any calmness fading fast.

The officer ignored Donna and continued speaking to Josh. "I need you to stay with me, and if I sit you down someplace, you stay there."

Josh nodded as Matt began speaking. "Excuse me, is he under arrest?"

The officer turned and looked at Matt, his eyes showing no reaction whatsoever. He either didn't know who he was or he didn't care. "No, not yet. He's being detained for questioning."

"Not yet?" Donna said louder, her eyes growing huge.

Matt put his hand on her shoulder and spoke calmly to the officer. "If he's not under arrest, why is he hand cuffed? He clearly needs medical attention. Don't you think those are going to get in the way of that?"

The officer looked at Matt, still unimpressed. "Cuffing a suspect is common, especially under these circumstances. Once he's in an exam room with a doctor, I'll take them off."

"You take those off this instant," Donna said loudly. "He didn't shoot anyone! Do you know who he is? Take them off! Take them off now!"

"Donna," Josh said quietly, leaning in to her slightly. "It's fine."

"It's not fine," she said, tears welling up in her eyes again. She wiped them away harshly and glanced at the officer before meeting Josh's eyes. "I'm calling the President."

"Donna, we're not bothering the President with this." He looked at Matt who raised his eyebrows as if to say good luck keeping her from doing whatever she wants to do. Josh paused for a second before looking back at Donna. "I do need you to call Sam, though. Tell him an officer I was with was shot in the leg and passed out. I'm being held for questioning, but when the officer wakes up, he'll know it wasn't me. Ask him if I should answer questions." He looked back at Matt who nodded and smiled, impressed at how he handled her.

She looked at him with what Matt thought was an impressive pout and reluctantly nodded, and he leaned in and kissed her forehead again. "Mr. Lyman," the nurse said quietly. "Why don't we go get you stitched up and get a look at your torso?"

"Your torso?" Donna shrieked, jumping back as if she'd hurt him.

He shrugged, trying to play it off. "A few cracked ribs, no big deal."

Matt laughed. "No big deal?"

Josh looked at Donna and then up at him. "Work with me here, would you?"

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

When Donna started to follow the three of them into the emergency room, the nurse turned to her and smiled. "I'm gonna get a doctor to look at his injuries. Once they're done, I'll come and get you and you can stay with him."

"But…" she looked at the nurse helplessly. She wasn't lying when she said she didn't want to be where he wasn't. At the moment, even a few rooms away felt like an ocean, and all she wanted to do was hold his hand. She knew everything would be ok as long as she could be touching him.

"Donna," he said quietly. "Call Sam. See what he wants me to do. By the time you're done with me, I bet I can get you back there," he said with a wink.

She laughed in spite of herself. "You're the prisoner, what pull do you think you have?"

"That's more like it," he said with a smile before turning around and going through the double doors.

She took a deep breath and turned around, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. Her hands were still shaking, albeit for different reasons altogether and she stared at them for a few seconds. She heard Ned mention something about going to get them all some coffee, and she nodded her thanks instead of vocalizing it. She felt a hand on her elbow and for a brief second, she thought it was Josh. But the touch wasn't his. It didn't know the way she moved quite as well, didn't feel quite as strong and soft at the same time. It wasn't as sure of itself. She glanced up at the congressman, who was leading her back to the chairs, and for the first time, she smiled and did what he asked without words.

Once they were sitting down, she looked at her phone and dialed. "Donna?"

"Toby, I need a favor."

She heard him take a deep breath. "Donna, they're still looking for him. The riot's over, but it's gonna take a little more time to find him."

"We found him, Toby. He's at the hospital. That's not why I'm…"

"How is he?" he asked, cutting her off.

She looked over towards the double doors. "He looks like shit. He's got a horrible cut on his head and a black eye. His nose is swollen as hell and apparently he has a few cracked ribs, but he's walking and talking and lying about how bad it is, so I think he's gonna be ok. He's in with the doctor now."

"Tell him to call us later?"

"Yeah, listen…"

"Right. A favor."

"He's being detained by the moronic Miami police department. Apparently a police officer was shot and the idiots think he did it. Can you make a few phone calls; maybe let it slip to the President?"

"They think he shot a cop?" he asked calmly. Typical Toby, she thought with a smile.

"Yeah. He's acting like it's no big deal. Tried to throw me off the scent by having me call Sam." She heard a noise and looked over to see the congressman laughing quietly to himself. "The cop passed out, but Josh thinks when he wakes up, he'll tell them it wasn't him."

"I'll get on it. See what I can find out. What hospital?"

"Skyline. Thanks, Toby."

"Yeah. Tell him…" he got quiet for a minute and she remembered they were in a fight. "Tell him we're all going out for a drink next time you guys are in town."

She smiled again. "I'll tell him. Talk to you soon."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

The police officer was sitting outside the curtained exam area and she gave him an evil glare before peeling back the dark green curtain slightly and stepping inside. She was a little unsure of herself, of his need to have her there, but her own need to be near him overshadowed that uncertainty. She needed to be near him, to touch his hand, hear his voice. She needed to know he was ok.

He was sitting up on a small bed, legs hanging over the side, wearing a hospital gown, which she would no doubt make fun of later, when she was sure he was going to be ok. A young doctor, possibly a student, was stitching his head, just finishing, and she stood aside and watched for a minute before walking in.

The young man looked up at her and smiled. "Perfect timing, we're just finishing up."

"How's he doing?" she asked, trying to sound upbeat.

"I'm right here, you can ask me," Josh said, trying to sound forceful but sounding more pathetic than anything.

"You'll lie," she said casually.

The doctor chuckled and stood up, moving a tray off to his side. "Well," he paused, looking at Josh, who nodded. "He has a broken nose which we packed with gauze and a pretty nice black eye, three cracked ribs, a bruised kidney, and we're starting him on a high dose of AZT. There's no internal bleeding from the kicking he received to his stomach and back, and an optometrist will be here in a few minutes to check his vision. All in all, I'd say he was lucky."

Josh tried to smile at her, but her face was pure white. "See, I'm fine."

"Kicking?" she whispered.

"I was kicked a few times, no big deal," he shrugged.

"Like the 3 cracked ribs are no big deal?" she asked quietly.

"Right." He nodded and turned in the small bed, pushing himself up towards the head of the bed, wincing and gritting his teeth at the pain in his back. The doctor helped him and told him to lie down, then used the remote to move the head of the bed up so he could be in a sitting position.

"Ok?" the doctor asked and he nodded. "I'm gonna work on getting you a room upstairs. Someone'll be here in a few minutes to look at your eye, and I'll be back to check on you in a little bit."

"Thanks," Josh said as he pulled back the curtain and left.

Once they were alone, Donna walked to the bed and tentatively reached her hand out, barely touching his hair before pulling back, unsure of herself. He looked up at her trembling lip and smiled again. "I'm on all kinds of drugs. It doesn't even hurt."

She smiled back at him, softly and sadly. "I could tell, what with all the distorted facial expressions you had going on there."

He winked his good eye at her. "Those were just for pity, so he'd help me."

She nodded and grinned at him, but it didn't last. Finally she whispered, "Someone kicked you?"

He took her hand and pulled her until she was sitting on the edge of the bed, lacing her fingers with his. "You're ok? You didn't get hurt at all?" he asked instead of answering her.

She bit her lip. "You're avoiding the question."

"Just answer me, please," he said with gravel in his voice.

She looked at him for a few seconds, his face mirroring the worried face she'd been wearing for the last few hours. They were quite a pair, she thought to herself. She smiled and tried not to cry, "Not a scratch. I was heavily guarded by your posse."

"They were supposed to keep you away from that park," he said seriously.

She raised her eyebrows. "I might not have been too cooperative when it came to that," she said, stressing 'might'.

"Why not?" he asked seriously.

She looked down at their joined hands for several seconds before speaking again. "I know you could've left with them when…"

"No I couldn't," he cut in.

"Why?" she whispered, a quiver in her voice.

He looked away from her, to the wall. "Because you were there," he said just as quietly.

"Now ask me why I couldn't stay away."

Reluctantly, he took his eyes off the wall and focused on her again. "Why couldn't you stay away?"

"Because you were there," she said, smiling through the tears in her eyes.

Instead of smiling back, he watched her eyes for a few seconds, then reached up with his free hand and wiped a tear from her cheek. "We've got to talk about it this time."

She nodded. "I know."

"We can't keep pretending."

"I don't want to keep pretending."

He started to say something but stopped when they heard the curtain being pulled open. They continued staring at each other, only turning when a middle aged female doctor finally cleared her throat. He squeezed her hand as the woman came in to look at his eye.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

"Mr. President," he said quietly, knocking on the door to the oval office.

The President looked up, his glasses teetering near the edge of his nose and waved him in. "Any news?"

Toby nodded. "Josh has been taken to the hospital. He's got some injuries, but Donna seems to think he's going to be ok."

The President raised his eyebrows. "CJ!" he yelled towards the door joining the two offices.

A few seconds later, she walked into the office and looked at the two men. "Josh?" she asked hopefully.

"Toby was just filling me in," he replied.

They both looked at Toby, who'd been less than pleased with them all day, and hadn't done much to hide it. "He has a bad cut on his head, a black eye and bloody nose, and a few cracked ribs that I know of. There might be more, he's still being looked at by a doctor."

"Oh my…" CJ whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. "Is he conscious? They need to be told about his medical history."

"He's conscious, but Donna didn't tell me any other details," he replied quietly.

"Donna's there?" She smiled and relaxed when he nodded. "She'll know what to do."

"There's more. A police officer was shot and he's being detained for questioning. They've got him handcuffed in the hospital. As you can probably guess, Donna isn't too happy about that."

"They think Josh shot a police officer?" the President asked, anger present in his voice.

He turned to the President. "They suspect him, yes."

"Get Mike Casper in here, now."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

Matt pulled the curtain back just a bit, looking in at Josh. Donna had left a few minutes earlier when the police officer came in to take Josh's statement and Matt had sent Helen and her down to the cafeteria to get some lunch. Josh was sitting in the small bed still giving his statement to the officer and Matt listened for just a minute as he talked, giving him a once over. He looked better. His forehead had a large bandage on it and his nose was no longer bleeding. A few other cuts on his face had been cleaned up and bandaged, and he was no longer wearing the blood-covered shirt and pants he had on earlier. His eye still looked pretty bad, but all in all, it was a drastic improvement from the man he'd seen an hour earlier in the waiting room.

The police officer asked Josh why he was leaning over an Officer Davidson when he'd arrived and Josh explained that he was too weak to carry the man and was going to use his walkie-talkie to try to get someone to help them. He wrote it all down and left, saying he was going to check on the other officer, and Matt walked the rest of the way into the room.

"How ya holding up?"

Josh looked up and raised his eyebrows, immediately wincing from the pain in his forehead. "I've been better, but I've also been worse."

Matt stood a few feet from the bed, his arms crossed over his chest. "I don't think you're gonna have to worry about that for much longer," he said, nodding towards where the officer had left.

"She didn't?" he asked, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

Matt laughed. "The minute they brought you back here. She's not so much for being told what to do, is she?"

"Not at all. I tried to warn you," he said with a chuckle of his own.

"I know you didn't want…she called a cab," he said, sitting in the small plastic chair in the corner. "We got to the hotel and she called a cab to take her back there. Said if I wouldn't take her, she'd go on her own."

Josh smiled. "And how was she gonna pay for that? I had her purse."

"What?"

"She left her purse in the pavilion. She was broke."

"She was bluffing?" Matt asked incredulously.

Josh nodded. "Yep."

"Well," Matt said casually. "Helen probably would've given her the money. They've formed themselves quite a little bond."

Josh hung his head. "Why does that scare me?"

Matt smiled. This was the first time they'd ever just talked. It was nice. "Probably the same reason it scares me. I see many double dates in our future."

Josh looked up at him, eyes wide, but Matt continued. "You could've mentioned it. I meant it when I said I don't care who you date. Even someone on Russell's team. You're on our side, I don't doubt that."

Josh looked up. "I…we're…Donna and I aren't together."

"What?" Matt asked disbelievingly.

"Donna and I aren't together. We will be…once I can get her alone long enough to…but we're not….not yet."

Matt looked at Josh, confused. "She told me you'd been together for eight years."

"She was my assistant for eight years."

He slapped his knee with his hand. "She's the assistant Ned will never be?" he asked excitedly.

Josh nodded. "Yes."

"Ahhh… and the puzzle comes together."

Josh laughed quietly. "Don't make me laugh. It hurts."

"She has it bad for you, you know that?"

Josh smiled and nodded. "I've got it pretty bad for her myself."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"You tell him?" Helen asked as they dumped their trays of half-eaten salads and empty bottles of water into a trash can near the exit of the cafeteria. An old woman asked for her autograph and Donna smiled as her eyes widened in surprise. Helen smiled politely and took the piece of paper, raising her eyebrows at Donna before signing her name.

"Your first one?" Donna asked, avoiding the subject.

Helen nodded. "They don't usually recognize me unless I'm standing with him. So, you tell him?"

"No, but we agreed we need to talk," she said, balancing a turkey sandwich and Lipton iced tea in one hand and her cell phone and Josh's wallet in the other. She hoped he'd feel up to eating and knew he'd only complain about hospital food, so she thought ahead, getting him something healthy he'd eat without whining.

"Hmm…" Helen said, a sandwich for Matt in her hand. They'd sent Ned to the hotel to work on travel plans. Josh was going to spend the night at the hospital, so they were going to be in Miami an extra day.

"What do you mean, hmm?" Donna asked.

Helen shrugged. "I just didn't think you'd chicken out."

Donna's eyes opened wide. "We're going to talk," she said in a voice that reminded her of Josh's squeak. "He's hurt, it can wait a little longer."

Helen pushed the door to the stairs open with her back, letting Donna walk in before it shut behind them and they started up the flight of stairs to the main floor. "Can I ask you something? I know we don't know each other, but…"

"You can tell my life's a mess, and you can't help medaling just a little?" Donna cut in good-naturedly.

Helen smiled. "Something like that. I mean, you did tell me of your undying love before telling anyone else in the world, I feel invested in it now."

Donna laughed. She liked this woman. Liked her a lot. It was kind of like hanging out with CJ, but without having to worry about work protocol. Josh wasn't taboo here, they were just two girls talking, which should've seemed weird considering this woman might soon be the First Lady. Donna was glad she'd gotten the chance to get to know her a little before the titles and the formality kicked in. "Well by all means then, ask away."

Helen stopped walking, prompting Donna to do the same. She looked at her for a long moment before speaking. "I wouldn't give a day with Matt back. Not a single day. Why are you willing to give up so many of them with Josh?"

And there it was, the other perspective, the wind knocked out of her like a punch to the gut. For years she'd told herself to wait. Wait until they were out of office, wait until it wouldn't be quite so hard, wait until they'd both done whatever it was they needed to do with other people, wait until they didn't work together. And then it was wait until the primaries are over, wait until he realizes how badly he hurt you, wait until you can repair what the two of you have done to each other, wait until you aren't working against each other. There's always time. Just wait… wait… wait…

But this woman didn't see that. Of course an argument could be made for wait, but there it was like a lightening bolt. Could any of those reasons be reason enough? Had they ever been reason enough? When it was put that simply, no. No reason was worth spending every night for the last eight years alone instead of with him. No reason she could think of was ever reason enough.

She looked up at Helen with a huge smile on her face. "So…that talk needs to happen today?"

Helen nodded. "Yes it does. Now, it's possible that I was eavesdropping when you quit your job today, so let's talk about you coming to work for me when we win this nomination."

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

"I see Javert's gone," she said triumphantly, walking into the curtained area along with Helen. Josh and Matt were discussing the possibility of a press conference or a local morning show since he hadn't gotten to speak that afternoon.

"Who's Javert?" Josh asked, looking up confused.

"Josh," Helen admonished. "Don't you know Les Miserables?"

"The musical? No," he said, shaking his head in disgust.

"Well, it's still touring. We're gonna find a show near us in some city somewhere and the four of us will go."

The congressman sighed and hung his head before standing up, kissing his wife on the cheek and taking the sandwich out of her hand. "What'd I tell you Josh?"

Josh nodded, the idea of double dates popping into his head. "Yeah," he said, glancing at Donna.

"Javert is the corrupt police officer. Where's yours?"

"Ahh…" Josh said slowly. "He left. Mentioned something about the President and the FBI. You know anything about that?" he asked with raised eyes.

She smiled innocently. "Now Josh. You asked me not to call the President. How would I know anything about that?"

"So I should've been more specific is what your saying?"

"Toby's my friend. I often confide in him. If he chooses to then confide in the President who chooses to take action, that can hardly be considered my fault."

"Yes, hardly."

"Very crafty," Helen said smiling. Donna looked at her smiled wickedly.

"Very sneaky is what you mean," Josh shot back.

"Sneaky, crafty, however you'd like to phrase it. I've made a good decision," she said, winking at Donna. "Now, I've got Donna's room key. Matt and I are going to her hotel to get her things and bring them to our hotel. We'll put them in your room…since you won't be using it tonight."

"Josh," the congressman said. "We'll make sure dinner's here by seven."

"Dinner?" Donna asked.

He looked at her and smiled. "I'm not missing any more dinners with you." Then he turned to the congressman. "Thank you Sir. For everything."

"Your welcome." They turned to leave and Donna smiled down at Josh. He reached out for her hand, but she turned at the last second and followed them out.

"Congressman," she said once they were in the hallway.

He looked back at her and saw a look of trepidation on her face. Kissing Helen on the forehead, she went to the door of the emergency room and waited. "Yes?" he asked when it was just the two of them.

"I…" she trailed off, trying to apologize for her actions that day but not quite sure how to.

"Would've done anything you had to do," he said smiling. She nodded, tears springing to her eyes. "You're going to make a good addition to the team, Chicken Fighter," he said with a wink.

She smiled back and wiped the one tear that had escaped away. "You always gonna call me that?"

"I think it has a certain flair to it," he said before turning and catching up to his wife.

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**

She'd gone out into the hallway to apologize to the congressman, and when she'd gotten back, he'd been out cold. So she'd pulled the chair in the corner over to the bed and she'd rested her hand on top of the covers near his, so her fingers could brush his and she could feel he was there.

And then she watched him, watched him sleep, his face relaxed and his brow not furrowed. It was a rare look for him, contentedness, and she tilted her head a little to the side and just stared. The machines in the room made their noises, taking his heart rate and pulse occasionally, and he snored lightly, but still, it seemed so quiet compared to the chaos of the riot from just a few hours before.

She took a deep breath. This was the first time she'd been alone since it all started, and each moment started replaying itself. The confusion when she was talking on the phone with Toby and he told her something was happening. The way her fingers shook when she was frantically trying to get in touch with Josh that first time. The way her heart raced just a little when her phone rang and his name flashed on her screen, the way it stopped for just a second when he told her where he was.

She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry again, but then she heard his words. _'__Damn it Donna. I didn't sit in that room and make a thousand promises to any god who would listen just to lose you like this. Get in the fucking van!'_ And then, when she'd told him she was safe, the quieter sound of his voice, a sound not meant for her, but for Someone she wasn't even sure he believed in. _'Thank You God.'_

A tear slid down her cheek but she didn't wipe it away, didn't notice it really. Her mind fast-forwarded to begging police officers to go in and find him. To frantic phone calls to Toby and appalling behavior to Matt Santos, a man who'd helped her for one reason only; Josh had asked him to.

And then she was in the van the moment she realized he could have left but didn't. He could've been safe the entire day, but had refused to leave without her. The woman who'd treated him horribly over the last three and a half months… longer really. But he loved her enough to try to be her hero. And more tears slipped down as she remembered it wasn't the first time he'd had to rescue her.

She fought to keep Cliff Calley out of her mind and focused on the day again. The absolute horror that hit her when Josh stopped answering his phone, the words over the walkie-talkie, _'__Still having a hard time hearing you Davidson. Someone's down in the pavilion?' 'Yes, bleeding badly and unconscious.' _And then, without thought, the feeling of running. Running as fast as she could to get where he was.

She knew now the man bleeding and unconscious was a police officer who'd died on his way to the hospital, but it didn't matter. Donna was back there, trying to get on the ambulance, the congressman's strong hands around her waist, pulling her away from it as it drove away, the feeling of Ned's arms closing around her. She looked down at her hands. They were shaking.

And just like that she was at the hospital, standing next to a desk listening to the congressman talk to a nurse. '_Grey matter.__A police officer on the scene told me there was grey matter. "They didn't expect him to make it.'_ She sucked in a deep breath as she sobbed, opening her eyes and focusing on his face. His beautiful, beautiful face. Swollen nose, black eye, bandaged forehead… she'd never seen anything as beautiful in her life, except maybe the site of him pale and weak on the edge of death after surgery.

He opened his eyes then and she started crying even harder. It was too much. The day, the separation, almost losing him…again. She was shaking and crying and he put his hand on top of hers and watched her silently while she tried to calm down. A few tears gathered in his eyes too, and he wiped them away with his other hand.

"Shh… I'm fine now," he said quietly a minute later.

She shook her head. "I almost lost you."

He squeezed her hand tightly. "You're never gonna lose me."

She looked at their joined hands. "But what if I did? What if I lost you and I never told you?"

"Told me what?" She looked up at him, their eyes locking. "Told me what?" he repeated quietly.

"Told you I love you? What if I lost you and I never said that?"

He smiled slightly. "Donna, you've told me you love me a thousand times," he said, taking their joined hands and using his thumb to brush tears off her cheek.

She leaned into his touch and his thumb brushed over her lips, letting her hand slip from his and fall softly back to the bed. "Every time you told me not to drink too much but then took care of me when I was drunk anyway, every time you watched me from my office door, when you tied my bowties and told me you wouldn't stop for red lights and when you smiled at me when we were in Will's office in New Hampshire. When you asked for me before your… surgery…" he was crying then too, tears slipping down his cheeks. "And then again when you woke up."

"I needed you," she whispered.

"I needed you to need me," he whispered back.

"Why?"

"Because I love you. Because I've always loved you. You're everything to me, don't you know that?"

She turned her head and kissed his palm before whispering, "Yeah, you've told me a thousand times."


End file.
